


Now Three

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (sort of), Alien Biology, Depression, Discussion of Abortion, Disturbing Themes, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Internalized racism, Intersex Loki, Loki Has Issues, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Pregnant Loki, Protective Steve Rogers, Really Serious for a Trope Fic, Self-Esteem Issues, Siblings, Thor is a good brother, Vaginal Sex, discussion of infanticide, pray for the author, this fic has an audience of three i feel like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 18:50:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3260612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki finds that he's pregnant, and that's when things really get complicated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now Three

**Author's Note:**

> Back in the day, when I first started crossing lines in fandom and writing things that I would be ashamed to tell my parents about, I comforted myself with a certain refrain of things I would never write. One by one, that list has dwindled. Mpreg was probably the last thing on the list. And while this isn't mpreg, strictly speaking, it does have a character who is commonly identified as male and uses "he" pronouns getting pregnant. I started writing this fic and I basically cried about the fact that I was writing it at all on my tumblr for a while, and then it just kept getting bigger and more serious and dealing with really intense shit I'm probably not qualified to talk about...and here is the final product. Ta-da. 
> 
> I really don't know what else to say about this, except to note that I did choose to use the tag "Intersex Loki" primarily because of fandom convention reasons, but if anyone who is intersex feels I've dealt disrespectfully with anything in this fic, please feel free to leave me a note in the comments or [message me](http://veliseraptor.tumblr.com/ask) on tumblr. 
> 
> With love and thanks to [ameliarating](http://ameliarating.tumblr.com), as always, along with a number of other folks who helped cheerlead me through this work when I was screaming and crying and feeling immense shame for writing it at all. This one's for you.

In retrospect, Loki probably should have noticed the slighter physiological indicators – tiredness, cramping, a soreness around his nipples - but it took until the third morning in a row that he was violently ill for him to begin to wonder. Flushing the toilet and kneeling on the bathroom floor, he let his hand rest on his lower abdomen, sending querying threads of magic into his own body.

That answered that question swiftly enough, and Loki let his head rest against the toilet as another wave of nausea rolled through him. Wonderful. Wonderful, wonderful.

“Loki?” Steve’s voice called sleepily from the other room. “Are you sick?”

“No,” Loki said, pushing himself upright and making himself walk over to the doorway and smile at Steve, blinking sleepily at him from the bed. “Merely availing myself of the facilities.” Steve subsided back into bed, rolling over.

Loki’s thoughts spun. Probably he ought to tell Steve about this development now, rather than waiting. But…

Loki laid a hand on his stomach again, reaching out with magic. There it was, hardly even a life yet, embedded within him. Like something foreign, he thought, with a strange squirming feeling.

He raised a hand to cast the spell to purge it away, and stopped. He lowered his hand.

This had happened before, though then he hadn’t understood why. Now…he supposed perhaps it was something of the Jotnar. Or perhaps just something of him, peculiar creature that he was, not quite Aesir, not truly Jotnar. He’d rid himself of the previous seeds without thought before they grew, but suddenly…he wondered.

What would it be like to grow a child within himself? To bear one to term and give birth to a living being. More than that – if it were Steve’s child. The physical embodiment of their union made flesh that he could hold, that _they_ could care for and raise, perhaps.

(To condemn a babe to life as a monstrous half-breed.)

The life within him was half his progeny and the thought made the nausea return, but it was half Steve as well. Perhaps that was more important. Perhaps…

He sat down, cautiously, on his side of the bed, glancing down at his belly as though he could already see it swelling. “Steve,” he said abruptly, and his lover rolled over, sitting up.

“Loki? Is something-”

“I am pregnant,” Loki said simply. Little need to elaborate beyond that, he thought.

Steve stared at him. Blinked. Stared a little more. “What?” He shook his head, and then added, “but you’re…”

“Nominally male,” Loki allowed. “But also alien. My apologies. I didn’t think it would come up.” Steve was staring at him, and Loki felt a little prickle down his spine, suddenly realizing that Steve might well react with horror, or disgust. He should have thought of that before saying anything. He had never told his other lovers, after all, for that very reason…

Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “Oh,” he said, face a little pale. “I…oh.” His eyes drifted down to Loki’s still flat stomach and then averted, as though embarrassed to be caught looking. “Is this…is this normal, then?” Loki was having difficulty reading his voice, but what use was there in prevaricating now?

“For Aesir? I suspect not.” He kept his tone flat, stomach threatening to start protesting again. “It has…happened before, though I never bore it to term.” Loki felt his mouth spasm. Steve sat up a little straighter.

“Did you-”

Loki’s shoulders drew up, slightly. “No,” he said. “I thought I ought to tell you, and at the least ask for your opinion on the matter. It is at least partly yours.” Steve swallowed, consternation and confusion crossing over his face. He pushed the blankets off and climbed over to sit next to Loki.

“That’s – I. Thank you. But it is…” Steve hesitated, then forged ahead. “It is your decision, ultimately. It’s your body.” He paused, and seemed to shake himself again. “You’re really…?”

“It is hardly even a life as yet,” Loki said, shrugging one shoulder. “But yes, so it would seem.” He looked down at his hands, interlaced in his lap. “I am aware that it is my decision. Do I not ever do as I will? But I wished to ask…what you thought.”

“What I thought about what?” Steve asked. Loki turned his head to look at him.

“Would you be angry if I chose to keep the child?” He kept his voice even with an effort. “I will not…be upset if that is the case. It would, of course, be mine to care for, and-”

“What are you saying?” Steve said, sounding a little incredulous. Loki felt himself tense. “No, I mean – _angry?_ Why would I be angry? I wouldn’t – I don’t even – and of course I wouldn’t just leave you to do everything on your own, like you said, it’s – this is my responsibility too-” He seemed flustered, overwhelmed, but indeed not angry. Loki’s lips turned cautiously downwards. “I just – Loki, do you _want_ a baby?”

Loki took a breath through his nose. “I do not wish to skew your decision-”

“ _Do_ you?” Steve pressed. “Whatever I say – what you want matters at least as much, if not more.”

 _This creature within me might be a monstrosity,_ he thought. _It could be some awful creature, a hybrid grotesque with all of my vice and none of your virtue. It could-_ “I don’t know,” he said, hands tightening on one another in his lap. “Perhaps? I cannot – I do not know.” Steve reached out and touched his hands, carefully.

“Can I ask – a few questions?” He sounded hesitant, unsure. Not afraid perhaps only because he was trying not to show it.

“Ask,” Loki said.

“Is it…safe? For you to…I mean.” Steve’s cheeks flushed. “How would you give birth?”

Nausea rose in Loki’s throat again. “I suspect that – my Jotun form would supply the proper organs. But I do not know.” He felt his breathing quicken a little, and tried to force it to slow. “I know – all too little about how this would proceed, should I choose…”

Steve nodded slowly. His hand rubbed Loki’s in repetitive motions. “That would…that would be my main worry. Would be your safety, your health. If you…if you want a child, Loki, I’ll be with you. And if you don’t…I’ll be with you for that, too.”

“But what do you _want,_ ” Loki pressed.

“I think…” He could see Steve thinking about it, and waited, nearly holding his breath. His eventual smile was crooked, a little uncertain. “I think I never expected to be able to have kids. And if you…if it was safe for you, and would make you happy…I’d – love the chance to be a father.”

Loki took a deep breath through his nose. _Do you truly want to bring your monstrous progeny into the world?_ whispered his doubts, but against that, the sudden desire to see that soft, fond look in Steve’s eyes, looking down at a child, at _their_ child…

“I want it,” Loki said, not letting himself think too hard. “I want to keep it.”

* * *

Loki felt less sure the next morning when he was doubled over vomiting, having just barely made it to the bathroom. The smell made him more nauseous. He didn’t even hear Steve come over until he was holding Loki’s hair away from his face and rubbing his back.

“Is this normal?” Steve asked, sounding worried. “For you to be this sick?” Loki coughed and spat.

“I don’t know,” he said, not quite flatly. “Among the Aesir, it is not usually so severe. I have no notion about the Jotnar, and I understand that this is usual for mortals.” Loki flushed the toilet, trying to get rid of the smell. “It is difficult for me to say.”

Steve frowned. “You shouldn’t be losing nutrition like that. Let me get you some water.”

Loki turned his head to give Steve a faintly skeptical look. “If you are going to start to fret over me more than you already do-”

Steve’s frown deepened. “I’m not – fretting. I’m just getting you some water.” Loki narrowed his eyes. “I _mean_ it. And besides, I’m allowed to worry just a little bit more.”

Loki felt his mouth tighten. “I’m not _vulnerable._ I’m not even starting to show.”

“I know,” Steve said, his voice and expression both determined. “But since I can’t help in any substantial way, humor me and let me help by looking after you. You both,” he added. Loki took a deep breath, trying to settle his still nervous stomach.

“Fine,” he said. “A glass of water. That’s all.”

Steve’s eyes narrowed. “And I’m making you breakfast.” Loki’s stomach turned, and it must have shown on his face, because Steve added hastily, “something light. But still, you need something to eat. To keep up your strength.”

“My strength is fine,” Loki said, a little irritably. Steve’s hand moved up to massage the back of his neck and his irritation melted away, spine curving.

“I know,” Steve said, gently. “Just…let me, Loki. I want to.”

Loki closed his eyes and started to push himself to his feet. “Very well,” he said, as Steve pulled him up. He did feel a little weak. Was he going to have to begin eating more? “You may make me breakfast, Captain. But water first. I have a positively terrible taste in my mouth.”

Steve kissed his cheek. His smile was almost painfully fond. “Will do.” He retreated out of the bathroom and returned with a glass of ice water, which Loki gulped down gratefully, then refilled from the sink. Steve stood in the doorway watching him.

“What,” Loki asked, lowering the glass from his lips. Steve shook his head.

“Nothing. You just look…I mean, it’s probably my imagination. But you look different.”

Loki raised his eyebrows. “Almost certainly your imagination. It cannot have been more than…” He counted. “Perhaps six weeks, if that.” He did glance down at himself, almost nervously, but… “I very much doubt…”

“I don’t mean…” Steve made a gesture that Loki supposed was supposed to encompass his size. “Something else. Subtler.”

Loki raised his eyebrows further. “You flatter me.”

Steve’s cheeks went faintly pink. “No, I – never mind. I’m trying to give you a compliment.”

“You are not doing very well at it,” Loki said, with another sip of water.

Steve frowned at him again. “You look – I guess I’ve heard people talk about a ‘glow.’” Loki snorted. “I mean it. Like you’re…I don’t know. I give up.”

Loki felt slightly churlish. He summoned a wry smile. “I may feel a touch more – ah – _glowy_ if I weren’t doubled over a toilet.”

“I know.” Steve’s expression went sympathetic. “Come on. How about some orange juice?”

Loki felt one corner of his mouth quirk upwards. “You are going to spoil me, aren’t you,” he murmured.

“Yep,” Steve said. “Definitely am.” He didn’t sound in the least apologetic about it, either. Loki told himself the ache in his throat was only from the acid of his vomit.

* * *

Steve noticed the swelling first. Perhaps unsurprising, as he was, at the time, exploring Loki’s body quite thoroughly with lips and tongue and teeth. Loki let out a small protesting whine when he stopped before he could manage to hold it back.

“Sorry,” Steve murmured. “Just…” one of his hands came up and ran lightly over his lower abdomen. Loki’s skin tingled under his hand and he squirmed.

“What,” he said, and then felt a sudden twinge of alarm and lifted his head sharply. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve said. He had that smile on his face, the grin it would be tempting to characterize as _stupid_ but of which he was far too fond to ever apply the adjective. “You’ve got a little…already.”

Loki looked down. Sure enough, where he was used to seeing the flat plane and toned muscle of his stomach, there was a – curve. Soft, still, and small, just a tiny hint of the life growing within him. He blinked, lips parting a little, not sure what the sudden tangle of overwhelming emotions was that rolled up in his chest. Fear, he thought, and a kind of delight, and – awe? It was strange and intense and he didn’t quite know what to say. “…oh,” he said, eventually, his voice a little faint.

He knew it was growing. He could _feel_ it growing, on some level, the pulse of a second life a little stronger every day, though it was still barely a shadow. But to see his body begin to change…it was different. Almost disconcerting.

Steve cleared his throat. “How long do you think…I mean. I know how long human babies take, but…”

Loki felt himself tense. “I don’t know.” Steve gave him a startled look.

“But you…” He stopped, then, understanding seeming to dawn. “—oh. You don’t…”

Loki swallowed past the sudden tightness in his throat. “I have no idea how a typical Jotun pregnancy proceeds, no.” His voice sounded blunt, flat, and he felt Steve wince. “Nor is this precisely…typical. And there is the complication of the fact that I bear an Aesir form. Will that change things? I do not know.”

“Do you think you…is there a way you could find out?”

Loki looked away. He doubted any of the Aesir would ever have bothered to learn about Jotun childbirthing. He shrugged. “I suppose you might ask the Jotnar. If I were able to go worldwalking, and if they weren’t as likely to kill me as look at me.” Steve hesitated, but Loki could guess what his next question would be. “And I doubt they would be much more receptive to Thor, if that was your suggestion.”

Steve sighed. “Wouldn’t it be worth a try? We – you – don’t have to tell anyone else yet if you don’t want to.

Loki snorted. “The minute Thor knew everyone else would as well.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Steve asked. The nails of Loki’s right hand dug into his palm.

“I do not wish to become a scientific curiosity. Or an object of gawking.” His voice sounded tight, and he tried to calm it. “I recognize that eventually it will be inevitable, but for the moment I would prefer my privacy.”

“Loki,” Steve said, sounding like he was going to protest, but then he just sighed. “I just want to make sure that we’re not missing something important because neither of us knows about it. There are – all kinds of things that pregnant human mothers are supposed to do, or not do.” Steve’s hand rested warmly over the slight swell, fingers curving almost protectively. “What if…if something goes wrong…I wouldn’t know what to do.”

He was frightened, Loki realized. Worried. All too aware, perhaps, of how little he could do to help in this.

Loki did not want anything from the monstrous people of his birth. Wanted even less to think about the fact that even now his body was shifting, changing, according to their rhythms. But if Steve’s child died because of his selfish unwillingness to accept what he was…

“Fine,” he said, at length. “But _I_ will tell Thor. We’ll see what he can find.”

* * *

Loki spent the entire morning of the day he’d scheduled to meet with Thor pacing back and forth despite Steve’s frequent suggestions that he calm down. He could feel his insides shifting, making room to accommodate the growing needs of Steve’s child, and it was not comfortable. He did not want to do this.

 _Steve,_ Loki reminded himself. This was for his sake.

Thor knocked heavily, and Loki took a moment to breathe before he paced over and opened the door. His clothes were loose enough to mask his form, as he had no wish for Thor’s staring eyes to see more than was necessary. “Thor,” he said, brusquely.

His brother – _not_ his brother, it was still so easy to think that – looked nervous. “Brother – Loki,” he corrected, though he seemed reluctant to do so. “Steve tells me you have news for me?”

“Yes,” Loki said. He turned, not wanting to look at Thor’s face when he said the words. “I am with child.”

Silence, for a moment. Loki waited. “Brother, I-” Thor sounded unsure. “You are not…are you jesting?”

“No,” Loki said, not quite flatly. “I am not. It seems that my… _heritage…_ allows it.” He had not mentioned any of the previous incidents to Thor, fearing mockery at best, even then. He did not know what to expect now. “Which is, actually, why I am bothering to inform you. It has become clear-”

Thor grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, searching his face intensely, and then his face cracked into a broad grin. “Truly? You – _truly?_ You and Steve-” He glanced past Loki, and whatever look was on Steve’s face, Loki was almost sorry to miss it. Loki felt his lips press together.

“It would not be particularly entertaining for me to lie to you about thi-” He squawked, taken off guard as Thor’s embrace lifted him off his feet.

“Congratulations!” He said, beaming, and he seemed…genuinely delighted. Overjoyed, even. “You deserve all the happiness in the world – both of you – and I shall be an uncle? Do you know how long-”

“Put me down,” Loki said tightly, digging his fingernails into Thor’s neck. “And I don’t _know._ Somehow our tutors neglected to mention how long Jotun mares take to foal. If they _have_ women, as my current _condition_ suggests they do not.”

He could almost hear Steve frown, and did not need to hear Thor, as his sometime-brother set him down and said, chidingly, “Loki. It does not suit you to be so – vulgar.”

 _Is it anything more than what you have said, or your friends, or any one of us?_ He sneered, instead. “No matter. The point is that I need information that I am currently unable to acquire. Feel like taking a jaunt to Jotunheim to chat with the frost giants? I’d go myself, but…”

Thor’s brows furrowed. “I...I doubt I would be welcomed much more than you.”

“I wonder why that would be,” Loki said lightly. Being around Thor seemed to bring out his worst temper. Steve rose and came over, rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Loki,” he said, and this time his voice sounded chiding. “Maybe you can say that you want to know more about their, uh, culture, and-”

“The Jotnar have no culture,” Loki said flatly. Steve’s hand squeezed his shoulder, hard.

“You don’t know that. Has anyone ever asked? Everyone has some kind of culture. –anyway, Thor, and see if they have any books, or…or could just tell you some information about their lives…” Steve trailed off. Loki felt his mouth spasm. “People tend to respond better to curiosity, and most folks like to talk about themselves.”

Thor nodded, slowly, though his eyes flicked to Loki and his gaze seemed uncertain. “I would be glad to try. Though, brother…”

“If you are about to tell me I ought to be more charitable to _my people,_ spare me the hypocrisy.” He caught Thor’s flinch out of the corner of his eye, but it did not give him any satisfaction. Steve’s disapproving look just made him glance away from them both. “This is a matter of practicality, no more.”

Thor bowed his head. “Nonetheless. Thank you for asking me. And – thank you for telling me.” Thor’s smile was a little less broad, but it still made something in Loki’s chest twang painfully. “You will…let me meet my niece or nephew? When they are born?”

 _They are not yours,_ a petty part of Loki wanted to snap. _They are mine. Mine and Steve’s._ But in truth…Thor was good with children. And if something did happen to him…he did not want Steve to be alone.

“Yes, fine,” he said, sigh of exasperation only half feigned, and a spike of cruelty made him add, “so long as you do not bring your hammer. I would not have you kill Steve’s child should it be born blue-skinned and red-eyed.” He could feel Steve frowning at his back, and very deliberately did not look at him. Thor looked wounded again for a moment, but he recovered quickly.

“I would never,” Thor said, with utmost solemnity, “harm any child of yours, Loki. _Never._ ”

Loki had to look away first, and for once let Thor have the last word.

“Loki,” Steve said, after Thor had retreated. “I don’t like…it’s not right to just hate a whole people. And when you talk about the – Jotnar? that way, I know you’re also talking about yourself, and I don’t like that, either. Maybe this can be a good thing. If Thor learns something, he can tell you, and maybe you can find out something that’s not just wartime propaganda or hearsay-”

Loki’s fingernails dug into the palm of his hand. “Steve,” he said tightly. “Don’t.”

Steve subsided, though with a little huff of exasperation. Still, he came over and kissed Loki’s cheek, lightly. “You know I wouldn’t mind, right?” he said, after a moment.

“Mind what?”

“If the baby was – blue. If he or she looked like you do, sometimes. Here, it wouldn’t even have to be that much of a problem. I mean, mutants still have trouble, but between me and you…”

Loki felt his fingernails dig in harder. _I do not know that I would be able to resist the urge to strangle it. Your blood should overpower mine. It must._ “You are kind,” he murmured, feeling his insides twist and realign again.

Steve slid his arms around Loki’s waist. “No,” he said. “I just know that I’m going to love our child no matter what. I’m going to disgust you.” Loki could feel Steve’s smile against the back of his neck. “You won’t know what to do with me.”

Loki felt his shoulders melt down and leaned back into Steve, shifting his hips to press them back. “Mmm. I’m sure I’ll be able to come up with a few ideas.” He felt Steve shiver, his mouth shifting to scrape his teeth against skin, and relaxed into it, pushing all else aside.

* * *

The curve of his belly grew slowly, barely visibly. He could still mask it with loose clothing, but he wondered for how long. Thor, to his surprise, didn’t shout the news to the whole world, and when he slipped off-realm it was, Steve told him, under claims of a diplomatic mission that were almost convincing.

Loki wondered if the Jotnar would laugh in Thor’s face. Perhaps they would take vindictive pleasure in knowing that their destroyer might perish out of ignorance, betrayed by his own body.

 _I can always kill it,_ Loki reminded himself, but if it would have been easy before, now…

Thor returned beaming with arms full of – wonder of wonders – books. Written on hides rather than paper, and most of them in the tongue of the Jotnar, it was true, but nonetheless. Thor dropped them on his table.

“What are these?” Loki asked, not quite warily.

“Books,” Thor said. “About Jotunheim and the Jotnar. I did as Steve suggested and said that I was interested in learning more about their people, as I had realized that I knew very little and felt that it was important to the peace between Asgard and Jotunheim that I acquire more understanding.” He smiled. “They were reluctant at first, but I believe I convinced them of my good intentions and I was permitted to borrow some of their texts.”

Loki stared at Thor, and then at the things on the table. Perhaps books had been generous. _Jotun texts._ He felt his lip curl. “You actually managed to lie?”

Thor’s smile flickered slightly. “I did not,” he said. “I…truly am interested, and wish to know more. They have a library, brother! It is underground and well hidden. You would find it most impressive.”

 

Loki felt something odd turn over in his chest. _Jotun books from Jotun libraries. How_ savage. He summoned a sneer. “I’m sure they were overjoyed to see their long-time enemy come sniffing around. I hope you didn’t mention who you were asking for.”

“Loki…” Thor began reproachfully, and then sighed. “I know the tales we both heard as children, but I have come to believe they were little more than superstitious nonsense or the tales of old and bitter warriors.”

Loki glanced aside. “How magnanimous of you. I am sure that’s a popular opinion on Asgard.”

Thor exhaled heavily and shook his head, indicating the books. “The first two are basic information that I was assured are accurate. The others…the Jotnar do not write down their sagas on paper, but inscribe them on the land itself. Still, there was one collection of transcriptions done by a Ljósalf, and a history and dictionary written by the same.” Thor met Loki’s eyes levelly. “I think you will find them interesting. Likely you will understand more than I did, although the keeper of the library was most patient with me.”

Loki looked at the stack of books in distaste. “You are _most_ helpful,” he said, caustically, and paced over to the door, jerking it open and holding it there with a flourish. “You may go now.”

To his surprise, Thor didn’t try to argue. Once the door closed behind him, Loki crossed gingerly to the table, eying the books. Eventually he picked the top two off the stack and retreated to his reading chair.

The others he left where they were.

* * *

Steve wanted him to submit to examination. By the green beast’s alter ego, no less. “No,” he said, flatly. Frustration passed across Steve’s face.

“Loki,” he said, clearly trying for patience. “It’s just – a good idea. To make sure you’re healthy and everything’s fine, and you can’t exactly just go to a normal doctor-”

“So I must let your beast’s human skin prod at me?”

“Don’t call him that,” Steve said, sharply. “His name is Bruce, or Dr. Banner, and he’s a good man.” Loki flashed his teeth.

“Unlike me.”

“I didn’t say-” Steve took a sharp breath and pinched his nose. “I just want to make sure that everything’s going all right. That you’re healthy, and the baby’s healthy. That’s all.”

Loki felt his mouth spasm. “I can _feel_ it. I assure you it is healthy. I would know if it were not. Is that not sufficient?”

“I’d just like confirmation,” Steve said, soothingly. That tone grated on him, slightly, but he pushed his irritation down.

“You do not trust me?” Loki said, and was immediately ashamed. Steve just frowned at him, and he exhaled. “I told you, I do not wish this to become common knowledge.”

“Bruce won’t tell anyone if you ask him not to,” Steve said. “And besides…sooner or later the others are going to find out.”

“Thor already knows, I am stunned he’s managed to stay quiet this long,” Loki said, unkindly. Steve frowned at him again, and Loki resisted the urge to cross his arms and sulk. He felt moody and unsteady so frequently now, and knowing this spike of irritation would pass did not make him want to lash out any less.

Steve shook his head. “That’s not-” He cut off, and Loki could see him calming himself. “This isn’t going to stay a secret, Loki. I understand you wanting privacy – that’s what I’d rather, too. But your safety – our _baby’s_ safety – is important. And you still don’t know anything about what’s normal or healthy…”

“I am working on it.” The reading was slow going. The books Thor had brought were not written in the All-Tongue, and translation was not easy work.

“I know,” Steve said, “and until you _do_ know I’d at least like to have some reassurance that everything’s fine. _You_ might know, but me…I need something _I_ can know.” His gaze turned a little plaintive, and Loki wavered. “Please.”

Loki glanced aside. “Fine,” he muttered, only slightly resentfully. Steve kissed his cheek, then his lips.

“Thank you. I’ll talk to Bruce, if that’s okay?”

“I hardly wish to spend more time in his company than necessary,” Loki said, slightly nastily, but Steve let it go and slid his arms around Loki’s thickening waist, pulling him close.

The swell of his stomach was clear now. His clothing still fit, though his pants and shirt both were beginning to become a little snug. Loki had stared at his own silhouette in the mirror for nearly ten minutes, somewhere between fascinated and horrified. At least the morning sickness seemed to have passed.

Steve kissed the skin just below his ear and Loki twitched a little. “What have you learned?” Steve asked, sounding genuinely curious. “I know it’s slow going, but…”

Loki felt his mouth twist. “The Jotnar are not a unified people, it seems. Occasionally they band together under one king, but for the most part that king is little more than the spokesperson for a multitude of clans. It sounds horrendously barbaric.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “You know,” he said, “humans can’t even band together under one spokesperson.”

Loki chuckled in the back of his throat. “You are too independent minded. They…”

“Or,” Steve said, with a bit of emphasis, “we’re not smart enough to figure out how to cooperate. You can spin anything so it looks good or bad, Loki, and I think you know that. How about something you’ve learned that you can’t make into a bad thing?”

Loki glanced aside. Eventually, grudgingly, he said, “Elders are greatly respected, it seems. They are repositories of knowledge that is considered too…sacred, I suppose, to be written down. Their word, it seems, is one of the few that can override a clan leaders’.” He paused, and then added, “It is at least _interesting._ ”

Steve sighed, and kissed his jaw gently, but to Loki’s relief he didn’t press the point.

* * *

“Okay,” Banner said, “I think I can comfortably say that this is at least the second weirdest experience of my life.”

Loki eyed him warily from the doorway. Steve’s hand landed lightly on his shoulder, offering support, he supposed. “I’m certainly glad to rate so high on your list of oddities, Dr. Banner,” Loki said dryly, keeping his expression blank. Banner winced.

“Not _you,_ per se, just…never mind.” Banner met his eyes, surprisingly frank for all he was clearly nervous. “I think this is going to be awkward and vaguely unpleasant for both of us. Let’s try not to make it more than it needs to be, all right?”

Loki kept his jaw from tightening. “I do not intend to do anything that would alarm the good Captain.”

“The good Captain appreciates that,” Steve said under his breath, sounding somewhere between rueful and exasperated. “Bruce…thanks.” Banner was clearly trying not to stare, but his eyes kept sticking on the increasingly obvious swell of Loki’s belly, and Loki felt hideously self-conscious.

“I trust word of this will go no further than you,” Loki said, after a moment, keeping his voice flat.

“Like I told Steve. It’s up to you when you wanna…” Banner trailed off, making a vague gesture. “…make the announcement.”

 _Never,_ Loki thought, though he knew that wasn’t feasible, even if he were willing to ask Steve to keep his child a secret. He would not let Steve’s child grow up like something shameful. “Obviously,” he said. Banner gave him a bit of a look, but let it pass.

“Right,” he said, after a moment. “Can you – lie down and pull up your shirt. I figure we can start with an ultrasound.”

Loki stayed where he was. “A what?”

“An ultrasound.” Banner actually sounded almost patient. “It’s a way of…looking inside you. Seeing what’s going on with the baby.”

Loki was not certain he liked the sound of that. “How?”

“How?” Loki didn’t miss the look Banner threw Steve. “Uh…do you want the technical explanation?”

“I wish to understand what you are going to do to me.”

Banner considered him for a moment. “It’s a machine that uses high-frequency soundwaves to…”see” things. The reflection and diffraction of the waves create an image that the machine can put together and display.”

That didn’t sound dangerous. “And that’s all it does,” Loki said. Banner nodded, and Loki lifted his chin. “Fine. You will keep me informed of anything you are doing.”

He laid down on his back and pulled his shirt up just enough to expose his stomach. He watched Banner carefully as he set up the machine, squirted some clear gel-like liquid on Loki’s skin, and started to move the round – thing in small circles over his belly. Loki heard him murmur something like _still weird_ and ignored it, glancing toward the screen that was set up. Steve’s hand slipped into his, and Loki glanced over to see him looking too. Loki couldn’t make out much, though, just greyish blurs and black patches that apparently represented his insides. Something about it left him feeling nervous, unsettled.

Banner made a little “hmm” sound, then stopped. “Oh – there!” He sounded almost surprised, and his hand stilled. Loki pushed himself up on his elbow to get a better look.

“I can’t see-“

Banner reached out and drew a little circle on the screen. “There’s the head, see?” He moved the device, slightly. “And the body…look for the flicker, you can see its heart beating.”

Loki heard Steve exhale, a faintly awed noise, before he saw it. The small flicker of motion. The curve of a skull. Small arms, perhaps.

“Huh,” Banner said, and there was a very faint smile on his face. “Well. Looks like everything’s all there. I’m not an obstetrician, but development looks about right. Congratulations.” Loki couldn’t look away from that small heartbeat. He’d been able to feel it, of course, but to see it…

“Loki?” Steve said, sounding faintly worried. Loki finally tore his gaze away.

“Take it away,” he said, harshly. “I am done.”

Steve’s fingers tightened on his. “What’s the matter?” he asked, so concerned. Loki closed his eyes and tore himself away, back to his rooms. He didn’t know what he was feeling. He didn’t know what he was _doing._

There was a small life inside of him and he was going to ruin it, going to destroy it because that was all he’d ever been able to do.

Steve knocked on his door perhaps a half an hour later. “Loki?” he called, and after a moment Loki got up and walked over to the door. His feet hurt and he felt bloated and clumsy. He opened the door and looked dully at Steve. “Are you all right?” he asked.

Loki looked away. “I couldn’t stay.”

Steve stepped in and reached out, hand landing on Loki’s shoulder. “Can you…tell me why not?”

“It’s too much,” Loki said, still not looking at him. “I cannot…I will never be…”

“What’s too much?” Steve asked, so _gently._ Loki’s eyes stung and he felt as though he was going to cry, and then hated himself for it. He groped for the words.

“I am not worthy,” he said, finally. “I’m not – I’m not good enough. I will never be able to – live up to you, and this child, to be a good parent-”

“Who says?” Steve asked, frowning.

“ _I_ do.”

Steve took a deep breath and let it out. Loki resisted the urge to climb into his arms and lean on his chest and just let himself be held. “Let’s sit down,” Steve said, after a moment. He half guided Loki over to the couch and they sat down next to each other. “Put your feet in my lap,” Steve said. “I read that – at least for some people, when they’re pregnant their feet get sore. Want a foot rub?”

Loki eyed him, half uncertain, but his feet did ache. He swung his legs up and dropped them in Steve’s lap, and Steve pulled off his socks and began working his thumb into the arch of Loki’s foot.

“I don’t think anyone ever feels ready to be a parent,” Steve said, after a moment. “I mean. I know I don’t.”

Loki closed his eyes. “But you are…” Brave. Good. Everything I am not. “You _will_ be a good father. I…”

“Will be a good father – mother? – too,” Steve said firmly. “I know it.”

“How can you possibly know that,” Loki said. Steve’s fingers pushed into his feet and he just held back a moan that would have sounded positively obscene.

“The same way that you can be so sure that I’ll be good at being a parent,” Steve said, quietly, a certain note in his voice that made Loki glad his eyes were closed. “I know you.”

* * *

Loki woke up with a deep and intense throbbing between his legs. He could feel Steve’s warm body pressed against his back, breathing slow and deeply, but there was an itch in his loins that made him want to roll over and straddle Steve and take him in deep, so intense it made his breath catch a little just considering it.

Loki slid a hand down, faintly surprised. He hadn’t woken up this – _hungry_ for a long while, certainly not since he’d gotten pregnant. He let his palm glide over the bulge of his stomach and down to his cock, but it was only half-hard, and a casual stroke just made him aware of the deeper ache, further back.

He let his fingers slide cautiously back behind his cock, curling up a little, and felt his eyes widen as they slipped into soft, wet, and swollen folds. He just managed to bite back a moan at the feeling, both frustrating and relieving. Then he jerked his hand away and sat up, flinging the blankets back and opening his legs to look at himself.

His cock looked much the same as usual, but behind it…

Loki was more than familiar enough with women’s genitalia to know what he was looking at. His very own cunt. How nice.

And it was _aching_ with want.

“Loki?” Steve was stirring, waking, and part of Loki wanted to close his legs and hide himself in shame and part of him wanted to roll over and straddle Steve and rub his dripping cunt against Steve’s body until he was hard as iron and Loki could slide down onto his cock, taking him deep in-

He let out a faint moan that he didn’t swallow in time, and felt Steve shift, waking a little more.

“Is everything all right?”

Oh. Loki could almost feel Steve’s voice in his body and wanted to whimper. He wanted, he _craved,_ and before he could think about it he rolled over and straddled Steve, sitting up because he had to to accommodate the curve of his stomach, grinding himself down on Steve’s abdomen until the friction rubbed just _right_ and he gasped. Steve gaped at him, looking a little dazed as his hands went to Loki’s hips, body twitching and then falling still.

“What…”

“Mm- Steve,” Loki breathed, and reached for Steve’s wrist, brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked greedily on the index and middle finger. The hot pulse between his legs intensified, liquid heat spreading up into his belly and down into his limbs, and he heard Steve’s breath catch as his teeth just brushed skin.

“Loki,” Steve exhaled, and then his free hand slid back, kneaded Loki’s buttock and then slipped between his legs, brushing against his cock, doing the same exploration Loki had and he lifted his body to let Steve’s fingers find the warm, wet folds of his cunt. Steve’s hand stilled. “What…”

The shame tried to come back, but it was overwhelmed by lust, especially with Steve’s fingertips just _barely_ tickling where he wanted them. “Apparently – my body is not finished changing.”

“Oh,” Steve said, after a moment, sounding a little breathless, but after a moment his fingers pushed a little deeper and Loki moaned loudly. “You want – you want…”

“I _want,_ ” Loki affirmed, his voice rough, and pushed his hips down against Steve’s hand, a silent plea for more.

“Tell me – tell me what feels good,” Steve said, after a moment’s pause more, and then his fingertips were rubbing against him, exploring with care but not gingerly, and Loki’s eyes rolled back as he gasped for air, Steve’s fingers making a slick sound as they slid through his abundant moisture, rubbing against his folds-

Loki yelped as Steve’s fingers slid into him and pressed, his whole body jumping, and Steve stilled. “Was that-”

“Again,” Loki said breathlessly, “that, _again,_ ” and Steve obeyed, fingertips stroking inside him and Loki’s hips arched, hearing the little breathless gasping noises spilling from his lips. His hips twitched uncontrollably, moving in desperate little thrusts against Steve’s hand until he was thinking about nothing but Steve’s fingers rubbing and teasing but he needed _more._

Loki let out a sound that was nearly a keen and his hips bucked sharply. “Keep touching – nnn, just there, just like that-”

Steve’s breath hitched audibly but his fingers only stuttered for a moment,  still moving, exploring until Loki was riding high and almost dizzy with it.

“In me,” he gasped, “Steve, _Steve_ please-” He heard Steve’s breath catch and felt his fingers move, but Loki caught his wrist, panted, “your cock. I want to feel your cock-”

Steve pulled back, began stripping hurriedly out of his boxers. Loki moved, almost pouncing, pushing Steve down into the bed, straddling his hips with his legs spread and sliding slowly down.

He gasped, shuddering, as Steve’s cock slid slickly into him, filling him up, stretching this new part of his body in glorious ways. Steve’s hands landed on his hips and slid up, over the curve of his belly.

“God, Loki,” he said, voice thick with want and something almost like awe.

Loki rode him, slow, deep, strokes until he felt Steve come, and then threw his head back and let Steve finish him with his fingers, and it was so _impossibly_ good.

He could get used to this.

The ache wasn’t gone, though. He was still almost squirming with it.

“Again,” he said, voice harsh and hungry.

They passed out in a haze of cum and sweat and the smell of sex somewhere near dawn.

* * *

Loki was beginning to feel positively ugly. His belly was rapidly becoming ungainly, and he was aware of it like a heaviness that seemed to bear his body down, making him feel clumsy and awkward. He looked at himself in the mirror and could scarcely recognize his own body, the skin stretched over the great round curve of his stomach. He slept restlessly and unevenly, constantly aware of the life moving inside him. Strong and vital and waking him up in the middle of the night.

He read more of Thor’s Jotun books, but while they discussed birth readily enough none of them happened to mention shapeshifters, or whether there was anything he needed to _do_ to ensure that all went well. Based on the information he gleaned, it seemed he could expect to be in this state for seven to eight months. Shorter than the Aesir’s terms – somewhere between a goat and a cow, Loki thought with disgust, and tossed the book aside to stand and relieve himself for what seemed like the fifth time in an hour.

Steve had been gone on some mission or another for four days now, along with the Spider. Thor had ventured up once, but Loki had driven him away in short order. He regretted doing so now, a little, with boredom creeping up on him.

And loneliness, but Loki was more loath to admit that. He didn’t want to become some sort of needy, clingy, wretch, but just the same it seemed more lately that he hated being alone, hated when Steve left, hated having to sit and wait for him to return. Loki settled awkwardly back into his chair, no longer able to tuck his feet comfortably under himself as he was used to. Loki frowned down at his stomach and rested a hand on the swell, letting his magic seep through his skin until he could feel the form of Steve’s child curled sleeping within him, though it stirred at the touch of his magic. He pulled back quickly, feeling almost self-conscious, as though he’d been caught peeping at windows. Which was, of course, thoroughly absurd.

It took him a moment to realize that there was someone knocking at the door, and he sat up, sharply.

“It is I,” said Thor’s voice, after a moment. Loki’s teeth clicked together.

“I don’t recall extending an invitation for you to come whenever you like.”

“Loki,” Thor said, strain in his voice. “It concerns Steve.”

In his current state Loki could not truly leap to his feet, but he hurried as quickly as he could move over to the door and yanked it open, stomach starting to churn uneasily. “What about Steve,” he demanded, hoping against hope that it was not what he feared, that Steve was merely longer than he’d expected and had sent Thor to assuage Loki’s worry-

One look at Thor’s face killed that hope. “He was attacked,” Thor said quietly. “We were just informed…”

Fear surged up his throat like bile so he almost choked on it. “Where is he,” Loki demanded, and when Thor hesitated repeated it again, “ _Where is he,_ tell me where-”

“We do not know,” Thor said. “Not for certain. He has vanished, and we have no means of making contact.” Thor took a deep breath. “Loki…”

“Don’t you dare,” Loki hissed. “Don’t even – he’s not gone.”

“I was not going to say,” Thor said, sounding upset. Loki’s breathing had started to come faster, his heart pounding hard against his ribs. He could almost see Steve lying limp and bloody and broken, his eyes staring and glazed, and he would be alone, _alone,_ his child fatherless and all he had hoped for dead and gone.

“I will not believe it,” Loki said, wrapping his arms around himself and taking a step back. “I will find him myself-”

“You musn’t!” Thor sounded alarmed. “In your condition-”

“In my _condition?_ ” Loki’s voice rose nearly to a shriek. “I am not weak. I am not _helpless._ ”

“No,” Thor said, “but the child _is._ And if you are hurt in battle…Steve would not wish-”

“ _Do not speak of him as though he is dead!_ ”

Thor fell silent, and Loki stared at him, panting. His heart felt like a bird trying to flap its way free of his rib cage and his breathing felt short and strained. He felt the baby turn and kick out and winced at its force. Strong, like its father.

“Loki?” Thor said worriedly, half reaching out. He jerked back from the offered touch, nearly hissing, and ran his hands into his hair, pulling on great hanks of it. “Please,” Thor said, “tell me what I can do.”

“Stop blathering at me and find the child’s father,” Loki snapped. He pressed a hand to his stomach, eyes starting to sting. “I will stay here and wring my hands.”

Thor hesitated. “I will find him, brother,” he promised.

“Will you?” Loki demanded, and whirled, lashing out with magic that scorched the walls, crying out in frustration. The baby kicked again and it turned into a groan.

“Steve is strong,” Thor said, sounding uncertain. “We will find him, Loki.”

“Get out of my sight,” Loki said harshly, because he could feel himself starting to shake. Thor left, and Loki stumbled over to the couch and curled up on it before he started to sob, hating himself for every wracking, awful noise. Weak and useless. If Steve was gone…if Steve died because this _parasite_ kept him here…

The baby would be the only thing left of him.

Loki curled into himself as much as he could with his unwieldy belly in the way.

Still crying. He couldn’t stop.

* * *

Steve was hurt, but he was alive.

Thor brought the news and it was all Loki could do not to collapse, weak kneed. “I need to see him,” he said, _demanded._ Thor hesitated, and Loki felt himself bristle. “You cannot keep me-”

“I would not,” Thor said, “It is only…he is not alone, and your…condition…”

They would see. They would see, and the secret would be out for them to mock and stare and…

Steve could have died. He could have lost his lover and the father of this child and he would have been helpless to stop it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki said almost recklessly. “I need to see Steve.”

For a moment he thought Thor would argue, and was prepared to snarl at him about all his talk about _pride_ but was he _ashamed_ of his brother, but then he just nodded.

“It is your choice,” he said, simply, and Loki was surprised enough by that response that all he did was nod.

He dressed himself in clothes like armor and descended with Thor. For a moment he was almost tempted to disguise himself, to try to mask the swell of his pregnancy, but he pushed the idea away and walked into the infirmary with his head held high. He ignored the stares in favor of Steve, lying pale and still on a cot in a way that made Loki’s heartbeat quicken, attached to machines which might serve any purpose or none at all for all Loki knew. “Whoa,” he heard Stark say, and ignored that as well, pushing through them and reaching out to touch Steve’s arm, his skin, warm and living.

He felt his shoulders slump in abject relief, eyes closing, realizing that some part of him had not believed until now that Steve lived. He bent his head forward and thanked everything he knew that at least – at least…

He waited for the questions, the jeers or the mockery or anything. Kept his fingers on Steve’s arm and his eyes on his face.

It didn’t come, and when he dared to glance up the room was empty other than him, Steve, and Thor lingering at the door.

“Well?” Loki said, his voice raw. “Are you going to tell them what I am _now?_ ”

“No,” Thor said quietly. “I am not. And I will not. I wish you would not be so quick to mistrust me.” Loki scoffed, and he saw Thor tense out of the corner of his eye. “Would you say I have not given you reason enough to trust?” He said, a little less quiet.

“I would say nothing.” He wondered what the Avengers were saying, away from his ears. What crude remarks they might make, what speculation. His stomach twisted and he felt nauseous as he had not since the early months.

“And yet you still think I will not stand beside you? You still think-” Thor blew out an explosive breath. “What more do you want of me, Loki?”

“Nothing,” Loki snapped, but that wasn’t true. He felt shaky and sick, still fearful. The baby had not been quiet since Steve had been taken, as though it sensed his disquiet. “I want _nothing_ from you.”

Thor opened his mouth, sighed, and shut it. “I will not tell my friends anything you do not wish me to,” he said heavily. “You are my brother, Loki. My kin. That you are ashamed does not mean that I must be.” Thor walked away, leaving Loki alone with Steve. He stared after Thor for a long moment, and then reached out to Steve, touching his arm lightly before pulling away.

“You do not get to leave me here alone,” Loki whispered. “You do not get to leave – _us_ here. Do you understand me?”

Steve didn’t wake, but when Loki slipped his fingers into Steve’s his fingers tightened, ever so slightly. He rested his other hand on his belly, the last of the tension oozing out of him.

* * *

Loki fell asleep there, sitting next to Steve, and woke up with a jerk when someone came into the room, instinctively drawing back and half raising a hand, calling on his magic. Romanov stopped and just looked at him, and after a moment Loki let go of the magic he was holding and lowered his hand.

“I knew Steve was trying to keep his mouth shut about something,” she said, voice slightly flat. Loki didn’t respond, staring back at her, daring her to say – something. Anything. She examined him for a moment longer, then simply said, “hm,” and turned around. Loki narrowed his eyes.

“That is all?”

She glanced back over her shoulder. “Should there be more?”

 _Disgust,_ he thought. _Surprise, confusion. Anger._ He bared his teeth. “No concern that I am shackling your Captain to me with some spawn of mine?”

Romanov’s eyebrows crept up a fraction. “That’s not my words,” she said. “And I’m sure Steve would love to hear you call his future kid ‘spawn.’”

Loki felt his jaw tighten and spoke his own fear aloud. “It is not only his.”

“Yeah,” Romanov said, still perfectly nonchalant. “That’s usually how it works.” He fought the urge to snarl at her. She smiled at him. “Have a good night.” She turned around and sauntered out. Loki clenched his free hand and used his magic to shut the door firmly behind her.

He stayed awake for the rest of the night, glowering at the door. 

* * *

Steve woke in the morning, bleary-eyed and confused, and Loki kissed him hard, licking deep into his mouth. He looked no less bleary when Loki drew back, but a bit less confused, and gave Loki a sheepish smile.

“You scared me,” Loki said flatly. Steve looked apologetic.

“I’m sorry,” he said, raising a hand and petting Loki’s hair in a way that nearly made his deliberately held scowl dissolve. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I should just break your arms so you can’t go risking your neck with superheroics at least until the baby is born,” Loki said, grimly serious. Steve’s eyes widened for a moment, and then he shook his head.

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Try me,” Loki said. “I might.” Steve shifted his fingers in Loki’s hair and gave it a light tug.

“Are you…” His eyes flicked down to Loki’s swollen stomach. Loki nodded once and Steve let out a breath. “I was scared that you’d…I don’t know. Do something.”

Loki felt his lips thin. “Thor convinced me it would be unwise.”

“Thank God for Thor, then,” Steve said, but it was soft and didn’t sting the way Loki expected it to. Maybe he was just too relieved to feel anything else. “How are you…how are you doing?” Steve asked, one hand sliding out of Loki’s hair. “Everything’s…”

“Fine,” Loki said, perhaps a little too quickly, because Steve gave him a suspicious look. “I can…feel it. Within me. It stirs, sometimes.”

Steve’s eyes widened almost comically. “Really? Could I-” He reached out, hand hovering over Loki’s stomach. Loki gave him a crooked smile.

“Are you going to get shy about touching me now?”

Steve’s face flushed and he dropped his hand. It felt good, resting on the swell of his belly, warm and solid. Loki held very still and reached out with his mind for that flutter within him. It stirred, slightly, responding like a flower turning toward light, and Loki withdrew before they could touch. Steve jumped, eyes widening a little. Loki tried not to wince as the baby kicked out. Indignant, perhaps, at being denied.

“That’s amazing,” Steve said, a smile breaking onto his face through the weariness and lingering lines of pain. “That’s – _wow._ Our baby.” He shook his head, grin only widening, though it flashed momentarily to worry. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Loki said. “Not exactly. It is…very strange.” Seeing that smile, hearing the way Steve said _our baby,_ made everything worth it, he thought. Steve laid his other hand next to the first. “Can – he or she hear me? Some of the books I’ve read say…”

“Perhaps,” Loki said, hedging his answer.

“I just want the baby to know that I love them already,” Steve said, stumbling only a little, ears touched with pink. Loki felt a pang in his chest and pressed one of his hands over Steve’s.

“I’m sure the baby knows.” _The baby,_ Loki thought, even as he said it, and was almost frightened by the way it sounded.

* * *

Loki woke in a foul mood and with a strange, indefinable craving. He got clumsily out of bed – it seemed everything he did now was clumsy, and with three months still to come he was not certain how he was going to get bigger, or how he would be able to move when he did.

He made his way to the kitchen and checked the cupboards and then the refrigerator, but nothing looked appealing. Loki muttered to himself, wiggling his bare toes on the floor. He checked the freezer and found some beef, which was closer but not quite right.

Exasperated, he dropped onto the couch and grimaced at nothing in particular.

Steve padded out a few moments later, bleary-eyed. “Loki?” He asked, rubbing his eyes. “Is everything all right?”

“No,” Loki said irritably. “I want-” He broke off. Steve waited, patient as ever. Damn his patience. It drove Loki _mad_ sometimes. He wanted to pace, but he knew if he did his feet and back would start hurting.

“What do you want?” Steve asked eventually, voice gentle.

Loki groped for the answer, and found it. That just made him angrier, though. “I want – _hjortedyr._ ”

“Sorry,” Steve said, sounding confused. “What?”

“ _Hjortedyr,_ ” Loki repeated. “It’s a – large, antlered beast. Native to Asgard. And at the moment I feel I could devour one whole.” He glowered at the opposite wall. “Isn’t that just – _marvelous._ ”

“You’re…craving Asgardian deer meat,” Steve said, sounding somewhere between puzzled and amused.

“Is that the word? All I know is that I feel certain I would kill one with my bare hands if I knew where to find one.” Loki blew out a harsh breath through his nose. “And of course that is quite impossible. I am hardly going to demand you go to Asgard to fulfill one absurd desire-”

The anger evaporated, and Loki’s eyes started to sting. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, not even sure _why_ he was upset, just…upset.

A moment later Steve sat down beside him, his hand landing between Loki’s shoulder blades and stroking up and down. “Hey,” Steve said quietly. “If I could…you said this – this creature. It has antlers? Is it…furry? Sort of like a deer?”

Loki nodded, dashing a hand across his face. “I am sorry. I am being a fool.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Steve said dismissively. “You’re not being a fool.”

“Am I not?” Loki tried to make his voice light, but it came out just sounding small.

“I’ve got an idea, actually,” Steve said. “You stay here and I’m going to make some calls.” Loki watched him leave and curled his legs awkwardly under himself, feeling morose and frustrated at the same time. Steve returned shortly.

“I don’t know if it’ll be right,” Steve said, “but I found a place that sells elk meat and I asked Thor if he’d go get some. Maybe it’ll be better than nothing?”

Loki turned his head to look at Steve, an odd feeling in his stomach. “You…Steve, you needn’t…” And now he’d roped Thor into it, too. Loki’s eyes started to sting again, and before he could stop himself he was crying. He turned away, covering his face.

“What – Loki!” Steve sounded alarmed. “Are you – did I do something wrong?”

“No,” Loki said, voice thick. “No, you didn’t, I am – I don’t know what’s _wrong_ with me. I feel uncomfortable and ugly and I can’t control my own damn _emotions,_ and you are _too good for me._ ”

“No,” Steve said firmly. “That’s not true. You _know_ it’s not true.”

Loki shook his head. “I know no such thing.”

Steve sat down again and put an arm around Loki’s shoulders, kissing the one nearest him. “You’re going through a lot right now. I don’t think it’s surprising that you’d be a little…all over the place. And you’re not ugly. You’ve never been ugly.”

Loki sighed and slumped sideways onto Steve’s shoulder, eyes closing. His stomach growled loudly.

“This…elk,” he said, after a few moments. “It is an antlered beast, furred…like a deer?”

“But larger,” Steve said. “I’ve never actually eaten one. Sorry we don’t have any… _hjortedyr?_ On Midgard.”

Loki shook his head. “I am certain it will do just fine.”

* * *

Thor visited twice weekly. Most of the time, his visits were brief; Loki found his longing stares and excessive gentleness exhausting, and didn’t know how to tell him to stop without starting a fight. For the baby’s sake, he could not push Thor away too much.

(Solely for the baby, Loki told himself. For him, Thor’s presence meant nothing.)

This morning, Thor had stopped by and offered to make breakfast while Steve was at a meeting, which Loki had accepted with raised eyebrows. He made something called “pancakes,” flat breads that were eaten with syrup and butter. Loki liked them a great deal.

Polishing off his third serving and licking the last few drops of syrup from his fingers, Loki made a gesture at his plate to send it to the sink. Laziness, perhaps, but with his ungainly body he did not like to move more than was necessary. He felt the magic surge in him to obey his will-

-and then it snapped back. The plate remained where it was, wobbling slightly before settling back to the table. Loki narrowed his eyes and tried again, focusing more this time, and he felt it – a little stab of pain low in his belly, like a warning. He released the magic at once, his breath starting to quicken.

“Loki?” Thor said, catching his expression and sitting up. Loki licked his lips and tried an even smaller spell of summoning flame. It flickered around his fingertips obediently, but even as he tried to increase small tongues of flame into the makings of a proper fireball, there was again that sharp pain and the sensation of his magic snapping back like a bowstring that had been released.

“What are you doing,” Thor asked sharply, leaning back, and Loki tried to take a deep breath.

“My magic,” he said. “It won’t…it _hurts_.”

Thor blinked, and then shook his head. “What do you mean? I just saw you-”

“I can do small things,” Loki said, hearing the snap in his voice and not bothering to moderate it. “Child’s magic, but anything more, even just banishing an object across a room-” He rested a hand to his stomach and sent a tendril of magic inward, and that he could do without trouble – but even as he felt for his sense of the life within him he felt a tug on that tendril, and released it just in time before it was ripped away from him. Loki jerked back, shocked. “It’s _stealing_ my magic,” Loki realized, and felt a sudden, horrible twist of revulsion.

“It – what? Do you mean that the _baby_ is stealing your magic?” Thor asked, seeming incredulous. Loki nodded, thin lipped.

“It has to be. Nothing else has changed-”

“Perhaps this is normal,” Thor interrupted. “It may be nothing to be alarmed over.”

“I _am_ alarmed!” Loki struggled to his feet. “I _need_ my magic, Thor. I cannot simply – _be without_ for the remainder of my time!” His heart was pounding. What if something happened? To him, or to Steve, and he _would_ be truly helpless, without his magic, physically hampered, helpless and vulnerable and-

“Loki!” Thor’s voice sounded very close by and very far away. “Please, breathe slowly. Follow with me.”

Loki fought for air, sucking it in and forcing it out. He felt the baby kick, restless and upset at his distress. _Give me back my magic,_ he wanted to rail, but his head was spinning and his legs were shaking. Thor’s strong, warm hands guided him into a chair, his worried face looming before Loki’s vision.

“I need my magic,” Loki said hoarsely. “I _need_ it. If I am to protect myself and – and Steve’s child, how am I to do so when I am – when I am _defenseless?_ ”

“You are not defenseless,” Thor said, voice low and soothing. “You may not be so quick as you are usually, but you are far from defenseless, and your _seið_ has never been your only weapon. Nor must you defend yourself alone. Steve, and – and I and the others…”

Loki’s stomach rolled. “What does it need it for,” he said, voice hoarse. “Why should it…”

“Perhaps for the same reason you do,” Thor suggested. “For protection?”

“From what,” Loki said, and then had to let out a stuttering laugh. “From me? Already?”

“I did not say that,” Thor objected. “I only mean…they are still very weak and fragile. Perhaps it is not even truly…the child, but you, protecting him with not only your body but your magecraft as well.”

Loki took a couple shallow breaths and gave Thor a sidelong look. “Him?”

Thor glanced aside, abashed. “I was trying how it would sound. Do you…do you know?”

“No,” Loki said promptly. “Nor do I wish to.” He still felt shaken. Having his magic stripped from him…it was a nightmare he had always had. To feel it now, and know that it was this – thing, this _being_ growing within him that had claimed it and was stealing it away…

Perhaps Thor was right. Perhaps it was – normal. Merely his body giving another kind of strength and protection to the small life inside.

“Why not?” Thor asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.

“I simply – do not wish to,” Loki said, glancing away, because he did not want to say _it’s too permanent to know more than I must._ It was the same reason he’d brushed aside Steve’s questions about names. The same reason he did not like thinking of it as _the baby_.

If it was born a monster _(like him)_ he wanted to be able to smother it before it drew breath.

* * *

Loki had finally found a section in one of the books Thor had brought about Jotun reproduction, and was reading through it carefully and taking copious notes. It seemed that the Jotnar did not produce their own milk. That explained, Loki thought, the lack of any signs of lactation. As for what they did feed their children, the word appeared to be untranslatable, though Loki had spent the last half an hour attempting to convince himself otherwise and wrestling with it, snarling to himself.

He looked up at a knock on the door and made his way over to it, peering through the peephole. Thor and Steve were both on the other side. Loki sighed out through his nose and opened the door.

“Hi,” Steve said. He looked a little breathless, and his cheeks were flushed. “Sorry, I know – I know I didn’t say we were coming, but Thor and I went out to get a few things today for the baby and we may have gotten…a little carried away.”

Loki looked past them. In the hallway was a pile of bags and at least three large boxes that he could see. His stomach clenched and Loki felt a twinge of dread. “A little carried away,” he repeated, keeping his voice neutral. Thor’s smile was sheepish and Steve grew a little pinker.

“Well…yes,” he said. “We were just going to look for blankets and maybe a crib, but then…”

Loki wanted to scream. He wanted to tear his hair out.

He turned on his heel. “I need to piss,” he said, and marched down the hall to the bathroom.

He left the door open.

By the time he returned from the bathroom, the seething mixture of anger and nausea somewhat calmed, Steve and Thor had carried the whole lot inside and were talking quietly with one another. They stopped the moment he entered the room, though. Loki’s temper strained at its reins. He crossed his arms.

“So tell me,” he said, “why neither of you thought this was something you ought to mention to me? Or perhaps ask me about?”

Thor’s eyes darted toward the door. So he recognized a dangerous temper when he saw it, still – good. Steve rubbed his hands on his pants, giving Thor an uncertain look. “I guess I didn’t…I wanted it to be a surprise,” he said.

“Did you not consider the fact that I might not _want_ to be surprised?”

The two of them looked at each other. Loki’s anger tasted like bile on the back of his tongue and the force of it took him by surprise. “No,” he heard himself say. “Of course not. Because Norns _forbid_ either of you consider the feelings of _myself_ when it comes to the baby _I am carrying._ ”

Steve flinched, and Loki felt guilty, but only for a moment. “Loki,” he said, with that tone of placating calmness that just now made Loki want to set something on fire – except he _couldn’t,_ not without pain, not without risk. “It’s not like that. We didn’t realize…”

“You didn’t realize,” Loki mimicked, cruel, mocking. Steve gave him a shocked look that turned quickly to puzzled anger.

“What are you upset about?” He asked. “I don’t understand why you’re angry with us when all we did was-”

“You don’t understand! Of _course_ you don’t understand!” Loki’s voice rose to a shout, and if he’d had something in his hand he thought he would have thrown it. His heart was pounding and there was buzzing in his ears. “Neither of you understands, you see what suits you, this is a _game_ to you-”

“Loki,” Thor’s voice, a stern rumble. “Do not be angry with Steve. This was my idea-”

“ _Be silent and get out of my room,_ ” Loki hissed, wheeling on him. “ _And don’t come back, don’t even think about coming back._ ”

“Loki!” Steve’s voice, almost a bark, somehow cut through his tirade and Loki turned back to him, breathing hard and prepared to snap. “Take a breath, take a minute and-”

“You too,” Loki said, without thinking, “both of you, get out, get _out!_ ”

Steve looked like he was about to say something, or to protest, but Thor laid a hand on his shoulder, and after a moment Steve’s shoulders dropped. “All right,” he said. “All right, we’ll go.”

They exited quietly. When the door closed behind them, Loki didn’t feel any better.

One of the bags fell over, a small furry toy spilling out. Loki picked it up and stared at it, his eyes starting to sting with tears.

He threw it at the wall and screamed until he was hoarse.

* * *

Steve came back a few hours later, knocking gingerly on the door. Loki was sitting on the couch, staring listlessly at nothing. “Come in,” he said to the knock, without standing up, and he didn’t turn when the door opened.

“Loki,” Steve said gently, “can we talk now?”

“Must we?” Loki asked, and made himself laugh. It came out harsh. Steve didn’t sit down or respond, and after a moment Loki sighed, dropping his head forward into his hands. “I am sorry.”

“Thank you,” Steve said, “but I didn’t just come to ask for an apology.”

“I was acting like a fool,” Loki said, into his hands. “You…you and Thor did nothing wrong.”

“Something upset you,” Steve said, his determination dogged. Loki squeezed his eyes closed.

“Something always does,” he said, and heard the bitterness in his own tone. “I was…out of sorts to begin with. You should not pay it any mind.”

“Loki.” Steve’s voice was stern. “Don’t…that’s not helpful. When something upsets you there’s usually a reason for it.”

Loki swallowed and said nothing for several seconds. “What if this baby dies,” he said, finally, his voice flat. “You are…I fear you are getting your hopes up. If something should happen-”

Steve sat up straight, alarm in every line of his body. “What – is something happening? Is something wrong-?”

“No,” Loki said, though he felt himself shudder at the half-lie. _It might be, I don’t know. Something is always wrong with me, that is what I am, that is what it is to be Loki._ “No, nothing is – at the moment. But I…women often lose their babies, sometimes for no apparent reason, and I am not – I have never borne a child before. Perhaps I am unsuited for it, somehow, and if something were to go wrong…” He glanced over his shoulder at the toys and boxes. Steve was silent for a long moment.

“I don’t think there’s any reason to expect something should go wrong,” Steve said, his voice stubborn. “But even if it did…what do you think would happen?”

Loki closed his eyes and licked his lips. “Would you hate me for it?” The words burst out of him, though he knew he should not ask.

“What – _no._ ” Steve’s answer came at once. “No, Loki, I wouldn’t – why would I hate you? I would – I would be _there_ for you. To help you, however I could do that best. I wouldn’t be angry and I certainly wouldn’t hate you – why would you think that?”

 _Would you hate me if I did it? If I snuffed out a life that partly belonged to you because your blood failed to overwhelm mine?_ Loki felt himself shudder again, his lungs squeezing, and now Steve did come over and sit down beside him, putting an arm around his shoulders.

“Is _that_ what you were worried about?” Steve asked, sounding a little incredulous. “I wish you’d – I wish you’d said something. I could’ve told you before that was ridiculous.”

“I did not realize before.” It was partly true. “And it is also…my emotions are stronger than I expect them to be. Fiercer. I do not always realize until it is too late how they are overcoming me.” Steve nodded, and after a moment Loki squeezed his eyes closed and added, “I _am_ sorry.”

“I know.” Steve’s hand moved to rub up and down his back.

Loki exhaled through his nose. “I suppose I shall have to apologize to Thor as well.”

“I think that would be good,” Steve said mildly. Loki leaned forward as much as his belly would let him, enjoying the feeling of Steve’s hand up and down his spine, however little he deserved it. He didn’t deserve any of this and never would, but right now he would allow himself to have it.

“I love you,” Loki burst out, keeping his eyes closed so he did not have to look at Steve while he said it. “Whatever comes…know that.”

Steve’s hand stuttered in its rhythm, but only for a moment. “I do,” he said, softly. “And I hope you know that I love you too. So much, Loki.”

 _Too much,_ Loki thought. _You love me too much, and I fear you will only regret it._

* * *

He was standing over a cradle, Steve’s baby lying in it, sleeping softly. There was a dusting of pale hair on his head, soft fair skin faintly flushed with life. Small and fragile and beautiful. Loki reached out to lift him, gently so as not to wake the babe, and held him close to his chest.

The baby woke, stirring slightly, and opened his blue eyes. For a moment they stared up at Loki, and then they crinkled and he began to wail. “Shh,” Loki tried to say, but his voice sounded strange and the baby was trying to struggle, a note of pain in his cries and Loki realized too late that his hands were blue and the dead black of frostbite was spreading where he was touching the baby but he couldn’t let go, couldn’t just drop him and it only took a few moments for the baby’s cries to go silent.

“My son,” said Steve’s voice, sounding hollow and sad. “You killed my son,” and Loki turned, the small body still in his arms, starting to shake-

He woke with a jerk and a scream caught in his throat, his spine protesting the position in which he’d fallen asleep. Steve was still sleeping and Loki took a deep breath through his nose and looked down at his hands, meaning to take comfort in their usual appearance.

For a moment, he thought he was still dreaming. Then he let out a choked cry, clawing his way out of the bed and to his feet, looking down at his body. His _blue_ body.

“Loki?” Steve sounded bleary, but awake. Loki wanted to flee and couldn’t make himself move, staring at his hands and trembling. _Change back,_ he willed, but nothing happened, his skin remaining stubbornly ridged and blue. His heart began to flutter. _Change back!_ “What’s – oh.” He heard Steve inhale sharply and tensed, a shudder running through him. His thoughts short-circuited and all he could think was _vanish, run, don’t look at me please don’t look at me_ and then Steve’s hands landed on his shoulders, hot enough to burn.

“Something’s wrong,” Loki said, and his voice sounded strange and grating. “I can’t – something’s _wrong._ ”

“Loki,” Steve said, his voice cautious and gentle. His fingers wrapped around one of Loki’s wrists and he realized that he was scratching at his own skin like he could claw it away. “Loki, look at me.”

“I can’t change back,” Loki said. He could feel himself hyperventilating, his head spinning and nausea making his stomach churn. “I can’t change back, Steve, I can’t-”

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “Loki, it’s-”

“I don’t want to look like this,” Loki said, almost frantic. “I don’t want to have to wear this hideous skin, I’m not, I – don’t look at me, don’t-” He broke off in a groan as the baby woke and kicked as if in answer to his protest, and was he hurting it, was this body hurting Steve’s baby as it had in the dream, _killing_ it-

The world blurred and tilted drunkenly. Loki reeled, unsteady on his feet.

“Loki.” Steve’s voice sounded very close, and his hands were clasping his face. “Listen to me. You’re panicking, I need you to slow your breathing down. In, out. In-”

“I’m going to kill it,” Loki gasped. “All this – all this body can do is destroy. All I can do is – I need to change back, I need to change _back-_ ”

“You’re fine,” Steve said, and there was a hint of desperation to his voice, and underlying fear. “You’re fine, and the baby’s fine. This is – maybe this is normal.”

“You don’t know that!” Loki tried to struggle, to pull away.

“You’re not burning me, are you?” Steve demanded, refusing to let go. “I’m fine, see? I’ve been touching you all this time and I’m just fine – give me your hand,” he said, and then grabbed Loki’s hand and laid it against his stomach, pressing his palm into the curve. “Take a moment and just listen, all right? She’s fine! You haven’t hurt anyone except yourself.”

“I can’t-”

“Just _listen,_ ” Steve insisted, and Loki squeezed his eyes closed and turned himself inward, reaching for his sense of the baby.

For the first time, she reached back. Tentative and shy, but he felt her respond, stirring at the touch of his magic. And it was _she,_ Loki realized, and he’d known that for some time but refused to admit it. She, strong and alive, her heart thudding in counter-rhythm to his own, stirring but only distressed by his distress. Unharmed.

He felt Steve pry his fists open and hissed at the pain as his nails pulled from where they’d been embedded in his skin. Loki opened his eyes slowly and stared dully at the puncture wounds and the almost purple blood flowing from them.

“You’re fine,” Steve said, firm and soothing. “You’re _fine,_ Loki.”

He felt overwarm and flushed, but leaned into Steve’s heat anyway. “I don’t want to look like this,” he said. Whispered. “I don’t want – I don’t want to _infect_ your child with what I am.”

“Loki,” Steve said, and brought one of his hands to his mouth, kissing the ridges that ran over his knuckles in a way that made Loki shiver, not unpleasantly. “This baby is as much you as me. And this…this?” He squeezed Loki’s hands. “It’s part of you. A part of you I love just as much as the rest.”

“You shouldn’t,” Loki said, and his voice tried to crack. He controlled it, brutally. “You shouldn’t love it.” _Me._

“I do,” Steve said. “And it’s not an it. It’s _you._ ”

Loki shuddered. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled over. Distantly he thought, _so frost giants can cry. Or perhaps I am simply defective in that way as well._ Steve pulled him into a hug, rocking him gently back and forth as Loki bawled on his shoulder like a child in monstrous skin.

* * *

The first time he looked at himself in the mirror, he nearly smashed it. He made himself not, made himself keep his hands at his sides and look at his own face. After a moment he peeled off his shirt to see his own body, staring at the grotesque sight, blue skin stretched taut over his belly waxing like the moon, dark indigo nipples on his flat chest. He smiled and saw that his canines were sharp and pointed. He did not look too long at his eyes.

Loki laid his hands on his belly, fanning his (blue) fingers out over the skin, and tried to imagine if the child within looked like this. He felt sick. _Monster,_ he mouthed at his own reflection, and tried again to change back, but nothing happened.

The urge rose again to smash the mirror. _It won’t change what you are,_ he reminded himself, and turned away, leaving his shirt on the floor and exiting the bathroom. He went over to the Jotun books that Thor had brought him and stared at them for several moments before picking up one of the ones he hadn’t looked at.

It was written in Alfish, he found, and illustrated. A book of children’s stories. After a long moment, he sat down and began to read.

 _Once there was a youth of the Skaðic clan who set out to seek his fortune._ The formula was familiar, but the illustration showed a frost giant – a young one, Loki supposed – leaving behind the warm glow of a fire reflected in lovingly rendered ice. _She left behind her clan and her blood, hopeful that she would find glory and honor._ Still familiar. Loki curled his feet onto the couch and continued reading.

The youth – no name was given – encountered perils and tests, gained a magical snow-beast as a mount and learned of a mythical place far beyond the snow and ice where there were beings of great beauty. She journeyed to that place, and indeed it was full of wonderful things, and creatures not unlike those of her clan. They were angry, however, and fearful, and captured the youth of the Skaðic clan, and killed her.

Loki stopped, startled by the ending. Lulled by the familiarity, he had not expected…but of course, he thought bitterly, frost giants would be unable to tell a story that did not contain bloodshed.

 _As though the Aesir have many tales that do not contain bloodshed. It is simply usually not their own._ Loki’s hands rested limply on the book. A voice that sounded like Steve’s said _it’s a warning, isn’t it? To be careful and not stray too far from home._ Loki glanced at the illustrations and felt a jolt, recognizing something about the shape of the mountains, the small pink people gathered around the fallen giant, raising spears and swords in the air.

He bit down on the inside of his cheek. What stories would the Jotnar tell of his attack?

 _Listen, child, and I will tell you of the day the sky opened and brought new ruin to our land._ Loki looked at his hands again, the thick nails, the ridges on his skin. _If you leave your bed at night the frost giants will get you,_ Loki remembered Thor saying, and he had been terrified for months, cowering in his bed, afraid even to use the washroom when it was dark lest the frost giants come from under his bed and eat him.

Somewhere, on another realm, was there a Jotun child cowering in fear of the Aesir?

Loki set the book aside, stomach churning again. He didn’t want to do this. Didn’t want to _think_ about this.

Suddenly he very much wanted to talk to his brother.

“JARVIS,” he said, speaking slowly, cautiously. “May I – I would like to speak with Thor. Please.”

* * *

Thor came promptly, as Loki had known he would do. “Brother,” he said when Loki opened the door, his brows furrowed, and then corrected himself, “Loki. Is all well?” He did not look surprised by Loki’s appearance, so Loki supposed Steve must have told him already. Perhaps he imagined the brief flicker of his eyes, panic or shame.

A harsh laugh clawed its way out of Loki’s throat. _No,_ he thought, but didn’t say, stalking away from the door but leaving it open. Thor took the invitation for what it was and followed, closing the door quietly behind him.

“What is it?” Thor pressed, though he hesitated a little, at least. “Is the baby-”

“The baby is fine.” Loki resisted the urge to grind his teeth, taking a shallow breath through an open mouth instead. “Do you truly think I would have called _you_ first if it were not so?” He meant the words to sting, and by the silence after they were spoken, they did. Loki felt a faint pang of regret and was disgusted with himself for it.

“Did you wish to speak with me or yell at me,” Thor said, sounding just slightly reproachful. Loki turned and stared at Thor, who looked back at him, face calm. Loki hated it.

“Are you going to say nothing? Act as though nothing has changed about me?”

Thor shrugged. “Nothing has,” he said, as though it were that simple. “Your skin may be different, Loki, but you are still…as you always have been.”

Loki bared his teeth. “Does not your warrior spirit stir within you, urging you to kill me? Your bloodlust rising-”

“No,” Thor interrupted. “It does not. My spirit recognizes my brother. Loki, Steve told me-” He broke off. “This change…”

“I am amazed you can look at me without flinching,” Loki cut him off, voice flat and ruthless. He wrapped his arms around himself. Thor’s jaw set.

“I love you, Loki,” he said. “In whatever shape you are. Yes – it is strange. But strange is not evil, or bad.” He took a step forward, and Loki looked away, but he could still feel Thor’s gaze on him, watching, staring. “I can still see your face. Your features are not so different, your hair…”

“Stop,” Loki said, and his voice came out raw and ragged. “ _Stop._ Talking. Stop looking at me.”

The weight of Thor’s eyes left him. “Brother,” he said. “I…”

“What changed your mind,” Loki interrupted, turning fully away. His belly felt heavy. All of him felt heavy. “When did you decide that the Jotnar were not monsters worthy of your hate?”

“I learned that you were born one of them,” Thor said, and then shook his head. “No, that is not…it made me think, when I found out…when I learned. But it was not until I went to Jotunheim and spoke to them without intent of war…I thought the world was simple, then. I was a fool.”

“You were,” Loki said. His throat felt raw. He wondered if Thor had screamed when Odin and Frigga had told him. Wondered if he had vomited, or wanted to, ill to imagine how he had touched one of _them,_ embraced it. He tried to picture Thor among the Jotnar, not waging war but seeking understanding. He could not quite make the image form. He forced the words out. “Did you hate me then?”

“No,” Thor said, in a rush of breath. “ _No._ I thought – I was confused. But I have never hated you.”

Loki closed his eyes and bowed his head. He let one of his hands rest on his stomach. “I do,” he said, keeping his voice flat and simple. It was his greatest secret, and just then he spoke it so easily. He felt Thor stiffen.

“Loki-”

“I thought I could make it – purge it from me. If I killed them.” Loki stared out the windows. How could he be creating a life within himself when all he was full of was so much death and hate and venom? “I thought perhaps if all the rest were dead-” He tried to laugh. It came out like a hiccup. “And here I am. Bared for all to see and fat with a half-Jotun child. The Norns do love their irony.”

“You did not…” Thor trailed off.

“Do not make excuses for me,” Loki snapped. “I do not. If I were back there, in that moment, in all probability I would do the same thing again. Only this time I would finish it properly.” He looked down again at his blue hands, remembering the dead baby he’d held in his dream. “Not leave one Jotun still alive.”

“ _Loki._ ” Thor’s voice was strangled, and he grabbed Loki’s shoulders and turned him forcefully around. “Do not _say_ such things. I do not believe it. I will not…” He trailed off, perhaps seeing something in Loki’s dull gaze that made his expression turn a little sick. “You are amazing, Loki. Incredible and clever and – and your _child,_ ” he said, one of his warm hands pressing to Loki’s stomach. “You cannot…”

Loki smiled tiredly. _If I do not have the will to do it, Thor, will you,_ he wanted to ask, but he could tell by the look on Thor’s face what the answer would be. Probably Thor would sit him down and hold him there for the next three months and try to talk Loki into loving himself and this body. “I thought it explained what was wrong with me,” Loki said. His voice sounded eerily calm in his own ears. “That I was Jotun. Everything made sense. But now…I am the wrong one. Not by virtue of blood but simply…”

“No,” Thor said, voice strident. “That is not so.”

“What if it is?” Loki asked. “What if that is my legacy?” It was the quiet, quiet certainty whispering at the back of his mind, _you should not be here._ _Cease existing and the world will breathe a sigh of relief._

“Loki,” Thor said, “look at me.” Loki looked at him, because even now denying a command from Thor was like refusing a need of his body. Possible, but painful. “It frightens me to hear you talk like this. The Jotnar are not all evil, and nor are you.”

“What if I am,” Loki demanded. “Can I condemn a baby to that?” _Can I accept the responsibility for allowing my own evil to perpetuate itself?_

Thor shook him, though gently. “You are not,” he said. “If you do not trust me – trust Steve.”

Loki’s eyes stung. He stepped in close to Thor and let his head drop forward so his forehead rested on Thor’s chest. Thor held him, though gingerly, as though he feared Loki might break.

* * *

He had not meant to burden Steve, but as usual, Loki’s intentions counted for nothing. “What’s wrong?” Steve asked, almost the moment he walked in, expression so _concerned,_ so _worried_ that for a moment Loki wanted to lash out with a confused sort of anger: _how can you look at me like that, as though I deserve your care and your love, do you_ know _what it does to me? How it makes me feel?_

The desire vanished quickly, though, leaving only a kind of hollow emptiness in its place and a vague sense of nausea. He wondered if Thor had spoken to Steve and wished he had not said the things he had, had not been quite so open. Steve would only worry. Would not understand.

“Loki,” Steve said, approaching him with caution, as though he were a wild animal. “What is it?”

“You do not believe in monsters,” he said, almost without thinking.

“No,” Steve said firmly. “I don’t. Not in the sense I think you mean.” Loki licked his lips and glanced away. _You are wrong,_ he wanted to say. _I can feel it in me, like your child, this monstrosity you think does not exist._ “Loki,” Steve went on slowly, “I understand that you’re feeling…uncertain. I want to help you, but I can’t do that if I don’t know what you’re thinking.”

“You do not want to know what I am thinking,” Loki said, without meaning to. Steve jerked, and the alarm on his face was clear before he forced it to calm.

“That isn’t true,” he said, gentle but with that same determined firmness that sometimes made Loki feel steadier and sometimes made him feel like he was slipping. “I do want to know. I might not like it, or agree with it, but I want to know.”

Loki squeezed his eyes closed and made his ungainly way over to the couch, where he sat down. He looked down at the waxing moon of his stomach, at his hands with the thick, claw-like nails. This body – it was his but he didn’t want it, felt like he didn’t fit inside it, as though he were trapped inside its skin. If the child knew what bore her, would she feel the same?

“Is it truly so easy for you to accept this?” He asked, not daring to look at Steve, not sure whether he feared more to see truth or lie on his face. “To look at this – this _thing_ that I am and not recoil from what it means that its blood runs in your child’s veins?”

“I wish you wouldn’t call yourself a – _what_ or an _it,_ ” Steve said, and though his voice was calm Loki could hear the thrum of anger underneath. “You aren’t a _thing._ You’re still the same Loki that I love, and I’ve never thought you were ugly or frightening. You’re just as beautiful to me now as ever. Just as stunning.” Loki felt the couch shift as Steve sat down beside him and reached out, touching his chin and turning Loki’s head to make their eyes meet. “I told you before – no matter what _our_ baby looks like, I’m going to love it just the same. That’s still true. That’s always going to be true.”

Loki shuddered and looked down at Steve’s lap. “And what if I cannot?”

He felt Steve fall still. “What do you mean?” He asked, slowly.

“I can scarcely bear to look at myself like this,” Loki said. “What if…” _I am afraid of what I might do. I know what I have to do._

“Loki,” Steve said, and he sounded half stricken. “Do you really think…I don’t believe that you’d turn your back on a baby, on _your_ baby, just because he or she didn’t look the way you expected.”

 _My mother managed, it seems,_ Loki thought, and he wanted to choke. His emotions were a tangle. “You do not?” He said, and Steve took his hand and squeezed it hard. “It occurs to me that perhaps it is not my blood that makes me – such as I am, but something else. Perhaps the fact that I can even consider-” _Even animals protect their young, but I…_

“No,” Steve said, his voice harsh. “Loki, you’re just – you’re scared, and that’s understandable. I am – I’m scared too. You can’t let that fear get the better of you.”

 _You don’t understand,_ Loki thought. _You don’t understand, it already has._

* * *

Loki walked down the hallway from the bedroom. His body felt very light, and looking down at himself the curve of his belly was gone. He could hear a child squalling in the living room, though there was something odd about it.

At the end of the hallway he turned into the living room. Steve was sitting in the chair with his back to Loki, just his hair visible. “Steve?” Loki said, and his voice sounded rough and strange. “Why is she crying?”

Steve did not answer, and a curl of dread unfurled in the base of Loki’s stomach. He padded forward, slowly, stepping around the chair.

Loki choked on a scream. Steve’s skin was black, entirely black, his eyes frozen open, and in his arms was – was a _thing,_ twisted, blue, monstrous, only just like a child and squalling, red eyes staring up at Loki. His gorge rose and he stumbled back, stumbled away, but the cry followed him, followed him, followed-

He woke with a jerk, breathing hard, and groped over to the other side of the bed. Steve was there, still there, and Loki could hear him breathing. Loki pulled away quickly and lurched out of bed, standing up, his heart pounding.

He rested one hand on his stomach, blue skin on blue skin. He couldn’t. He could not.

Loki squeezed his eyes closed.

He dressed quickly and simply, and went out to the kitchen, not letting himself look back. He wrote a quick, simple note – _I’m sorry, don’t look for me, I will come back –_ and gathered himself.

He drew on his magic. It hurt, but all he had to do was think of Steve sitting dead in the chair, Loki’s monstrous offspring in his arms, and he could endure it. The child kicked at his ribs, and he gasped, but held on, twisting himself through space.

He landed on his knees in the snow, feeling like he was going to vomit. There was a small cabin ten paces away, and he managed to force himself to his feet and stagger to the door. The touch of his fingers keyed the spell – even in this form – and Loki half fell through into his sanctuary, shivering, though not with cold. He curled up on the floor, waves of pain rolling through his body. _I’m sorry,_ he thought. _I’m sorry._

He took several moments before he checked to see if Steve’s baby had survived the journey. She had, her heart still beating strongly though he imagined he could feel her anger, pain and confusion. Loki let his head drop to the wood floor and closed his eyes.

Perhaps a month and a half more, he thought. He would stay here, and give birth here, and if…if it was safe, then, then he would go back. If it was not…

 _So be it._ Steve would never allow what Loki knew needed to be done. And it did need to be done.

Loki squeezed his eyes closed, tears leaking from under his eyelids. It did. He would not be responsible for another monstrosity in the world. He would _not._

* * *

Living alone, in this small shelter he’d made for himself a long time ago…it was not bad. Or perhaps it might have been worse. The layers and layers of protective spells woven into the wood would keep him from being found, even if Thor sought Heimdall’s aid. He did not get cold, at least, though he found himself wishing he’d brought some blankets, or the fuzzy slippers Steve had bought for him one winter. Still, it was…enough, and if he was lonely it was not…

(It was unbearable. He wanted to be home.)

 _Soon,_ Loki told himself. _Soon._ He hoped Steve would forgive him. Probably he would be angry. Perhaps, though…perhaps Loki could make him understand, somehow. That he couldn’t have stayed, not when he didn’t know what would happen, when there were too many ways everything could go wrong.

His Jotun form was…useful, Loki found. The hard nails chipped away ice easily, and the white of snow did not blind him when he stepped outside. If he kept his feet bare, his longer toes gripped snow and ice, making it easier to walk than trying to wade in boots. He could see more clearly in the dark and when he went fishing in the icy stream his fingers didn’t become useless with the cold.

Small things, but when he caught sight of himself in the window out of the corner of his eye, the sight was a little less hateful.

And then there was his daughter. He had not meant to communicate with her, but it grew lonely, with no one else to speak with, and eventually he found himself sitting down and reaching inward. She could not speak, of course, but he could feel her there nonetheless, latching on to his offered thoughts. And if she was unable to send back any of her own, he could nonetheless get…sensations. Impressions of warmth and safety, or else uncertainty and unease. Underlying everything, though, a warm feeling of affection and perhaps even love.

 _Of course,_ he scoffed at himself, when he felt his chest clench in reaction or recognition. _Of course she feels affection for you. It is only the shell of your body that keeps her alive, that gives her nutrients and protection. A parasite no doubt loves the intestines it lives in._

And yet he found himself, when he was lonely and tired and afraid, reaching for Steve’s daughter for comfort, even if it was just to feel the warm pulse of her life and the steady beat of her heart. Sometimes he imagined he could feel her reaching back, strong and bright and so fiercely determined to live. She woke him in the middle of the night with hunger or restless kicking, only to settle when Loki rested a hand on his enormous belly and sang what remnants he could recall of songs Frigga had sung for him, once.

 _Please,_ he thought desperately, sitting in the dark and singing softly to his child. _Let her be like Steve, not like me. Let her have none of my monstrosity. Let her be good and pure and beautiful and everything I am not. Let me have this one thing, oh Norns. This one thing._

* * *

His labor began suddenly, in the middle of the night.

He woke gasping with what felt like a cramp, a dull ache in his abdomen and a feeling of pressure on his pelvis. Loki pressed one hand to his stomach, startled and confused, for a moment not understanding. The feeling faded relatively quickly, but Loki held still, waiting.

It came again, and this time he felt it like a wave. Loki breathed deeply through it, and if it was decidedly uncomfortable it didn’t hurt, exactly. Loki waited for it to pass and then got clumsily out of bed, trying to remember what he’d read. _The Jotnar give birth standing._ He tried to recall anything he’d heard from Frigga or the healers, thought he remembered someone saying _it’s good to keep moving._

Loki walked in a slow circle around the room, though he had to stop and breathe through each contraction. They hurt, each one rolling through him like a dull, ache deep in his abdomen like something was squeezing his innards in a fist. It was all he could do to stay standing and keep moving, his breathing loud and harsh. He caught himself wishing for Steve and wished he could use his magic to summon a simulacrum. Instead he squeezed his eyes closed and imagined Steve standing beside him, urging him to breathe, to keep moving, his voice calm and sure.

He hoped Steve was not too frightened or upset. Hoped that even if Steve did not forgive Loki, at least he would want to see his daughter. If she was his daughter. And if she was not-

Loki told himself he was ready.

The rhythm was regular, at least, and Loki could predict when a contraction was coming and stop, closing his eyes and bracing himself. He reached inward and felt the bright, intense flare of life, no longer content to wait dormant inside him.

The next set of contractions drove Loki to his knees and pushed the breath out of his lungs. He knelt there on the floor, panting. He felt his water break like something bursting inside him and wet flooded down his legs, soaking his clothes. After a moment he stripped them off, leaving the shirt on. He heard a sob on his next inhale and swallowed it ruthlessly; how many women had done this alone, over the ages? Time stretched like a rubber band, and he forced himself to his feet and kept moving.

* * *

Something was wrong.

Loki knew it, could feel it. The contractions were coming closer together and becoming more and more intense. Last time, he hadn’t been able to hold back a scream, and he could no longer reliably keep his footing. He sat down, legs spread, trying to take deep breaths.

 _Something is wrong,_ he thought, dazedly, and rested a hand on his stomach, trying to reach for the baby, but was interrupted by another wave. The bottoms of his feet slapped on the floor and his back arched, his teeth clicking together as he groaned. His heart was pounding so that he could feel it in his ears, and when he looked down between his legs there was blood on the wooden floorboards. Not a lot, but some, and Loki’s stomach rolled.

 _You need help,_ whispered a small voice, sounding like Steve’s or perhaps Frigga’s. He shoved it down and tried to get up.

He screamed, dropping back before he made it halfway there. He would have gone on screaming, but another contraction crushed him in its grip and he broke off into a thin wail, fingers clawing at the floor. He slumped when it passed, head lolling to the side.

 _You need help._ That voice again. _If you try to do this alone-_

Steve’s face burst into his mind. The look on Steve’s face when Loki had told him he was pregnant; the look when he’d first noticed the swell of Loki’s stomach. He reached out for the baby again, thinking _tell me what’s wrong, please, tell me._

No answer. He could feel her fighting, struggling, but she didn’t reach for him as she usually did. She was afraid, she was hurting, she was – _dying._

 _And if she’s a Jotun?_ Panic battered at Loki’s thoughts, and he wasn’t sure if it was hers or his own. _Isn’t that why you came here?_ _Maybe you both deserve to die like this. Maybe this is what was meant to happen._

For a moment, he tried to relax. To accept that. Tried to reach for the calm he’d felt when he let go of Gungnir and fell. What came instead, though, was anger.

 _For me,_ he thought. _Maybe I was meant to die, but not her. She deserves a chance. Your sins aren’t hers._

Loki clawed for his magic. He fought her to reach it, fought his own body. A scream tore through his throat, but he had always been determined. He flung them through the void, the two of them together, towards home.

* * *

He landed on his feet, but he did not stay there for long. He pitched forward and caught himself on something – he couldn’t tell what, the room was spinning too much. “Oh my god,” he heard, and then, “Get Steve!”

Whatever he was holding, it slipped away from him. He barely felt his knees hit the floor, the pain within sucking up all his attention, devouring his thoughts. He might have screamed. “Loki?” Someone was saying. A female voice, he thought, but whose?

“S-something’s wrong,” he said, all the words he could manage to form. “I need – help.” His whole body shook and he could hardly breathe. Someone was touching him and he tried to push them away, but he felt as though he was trying to move through mud.

“ _Loki!_ ” Steve’s voice broke into his thoughts and part of him wanted to sob with relief. He didn’t hold it back in time and then Steve was there, holding him up, his voice low and frantic. “Loki, what’s – where were you, what were you _thinking –_ are you all right? No, no, obviously not – where’s Bruce?”

“The baby,” Loki said, clutching Steve’s arm, finding his face and meeting his eyes. “I had to come back. But I had to – I had to go, too. Promise me-”

He screamed as his belly cramped, pressure bearing downward. His knees buckled and he could hear Steve speaking but not make out the words. When it passed, he was lying down, Steve’s hand in his, chest heaving like a bellows. “Shh,” Steve said, though his eyes were wide and Loki could see panic in them. “Shh, it’s all right, can you tell me what’s wrong…”

“I don’t – I don’t know. I just – know that it-” He broke off and let his head drop down to the floor.

“Bruce,” he heard Steve say, “He just got here, something’s gone wrong with the baby.”

“Oh god,” he heard Banner say. “This isn’t – I really don’t know – _shit._ Loki, how long…”

“Maybe – fifteen hours,” Loki guessed. Banner swore again.

“Fast,” he said. “Is that…never mind.” He paused. “I’m going to have to…”

“Whatever is necessary,” Loki said. His voice sounded thin and breathless. “Don’t let it die.” Steve’s hand ran through his sweat-damp hair.

“Where’s Thor,” he heard Steve say, his voice tight. “He should – he should be here.”

“On his way.” Someone else, and how many people were here, how many witnessing-

Loki’s belly and pelvis were screaming in pain and he could hardly think. He felt his body spasm again, pushing, and nearly screamed at the answering agony, something was wrong, something was _wrong wrong wrong-_

“I think the baby’s turned,” Banner was saying. “It’s turned sideways – if we can’t turn it-” He broke off. Loki grit his teeth to keep from screaming at them to get it out, get it _out_ of him. He couldn’t care how he looked, half naked, splayed on the floor, Jotun form bared for all of them to see. It didn’t matter.

“Do – _do_ something,” he gasped, and then did scream as another contraction ripped through him, bearing down until it felt like his pelvis would crack or his body tear, one or the other.

“I’m not trained-” Banner sounded helpless. Loki fought back a snarl.

“Then find a knife and _cut her out of me,_ she’s going to _die-_ “

“She?” Steve said, sounding startled, and then, “Loki…”

“ _Do it!_ I refuse – I _refuse_ to let your daughter die, if one of you won’t _I…_ ” He could feel her life flickering and willed his own life force into her. _Come now,_ he thought, desperately, _just a bit longer,_ and gritted his teeth to brace for the pain of reaching for his magic.

Banner was shoved out of the way and then it was Thor, Thor holding a knife, his eyes intent and focused. “Tell me what to do,” he said, his voice thrumming. Loki’s body went rigid and arched off the ground, agony shooting up his spine, and when he fell back gasping Steve’s hand slipped into his and squeezed.

“Loki,” he said, “will you…will you be all right?”

“Neither of us will be if this goes on,” Loki panted, and then gritted his teeth and took a deep, sharp breath. “Thor – like butchering a deer. Don’t – here.” He drew a line with a shaking finger. “Carefully.”

He hardly even felt the first cut of the knife, Thor’s face white and grim, and then he was struggling not to scream and he wasn’t sure if it was the cutting or his own body or the feeling of his daughter struggling for life, struggling to fight her way out of his body, and then everything was blood and red and pain _pain pain_ pain-

He blinked, and he could hear a thin wailing sound. His head was spinning, or maybe the world. “Loki,” Steve was saying. “Loki, look,” and he forced his eyes open to see his daughter, red and slimy and beautiful, screaming her displeasure at the world. Loki felt a smile touch his lips, but his eyelids were so _heavy._ “Loki,” Steve said, sounding more worried. “Loki, look at me. She’s beautiful.”

“Yes,” Loki slurred. “Yes…”

“Someone get some towels,” Banner was saying. “Towels and gauze and – we need to get him to the infirmary…”

“He won’t stop bleeding,” Thor said. “Why won’t he stop bleeding? Steve-”

His ears were starting to buzz, faintly. His daughter was still crying, loudly, her lungs healthy and strong. Loki felt himself relax, every heartbeat pumping blood out of his body, but he’d managed…he’d managed to bring her into the world. His daughter. For Steve. That was…that was good.

He felt himself being jostled, lifted. His head lolled back and Thor’s hand moved to support it. “Loki,” Steve said. “Loki, hang on. Hang on, okay? I need you, _we_ need you…”

He felt a clumsy reach, a brush against his thoughts, wordless and formless, instinctive. His daughter’s magic. Loki’s heartbeat slowed and stuttered.

“He’s fading,” Thor said, his voice full of panic. “I can feel-”

It all faded, and Loki let it go.

* * *

Loki didn’t expect to wake again.

Nonetheless, he did.

Slowly, and when he opened his eyes everything was foggy for a moment before his head cleared. He could hear a low murmur somewhere nearby, but couldn’t identify it. He didn’t hurt anymore, which made him wonder if he was dead.

Then the murmur quieted, and Steve’s voice said, quietly, “Loki?”

“Hmmn,” he said, struggling to pry his eyes open. “Steve?” His voice was blurry, and so, when he managed to lift his eyelids, was the world. He let his head drop sideways and found Steve sitting close by, cradling a bundle of blue cloth.

He heard Steve exhale loudly, the corners of his mouth turning up in a relieved smile. “There you are,” he said, voice still quiet, and then came a soft wail from the blue bundle in Steve’s arms. Steve’s smile widened a little. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“She’s…” He tried to sit up, but his arms wobbled dangerously. “Let me see her.” He heard the urgency in his voice. He needed to know, needed to see her. _Hold_ her.

“Hold on,” Steve said. “Let me grab some pillows for you to lean on.” He stood up and returned with a few more pillows, wedging them under Loki’s back and shoulders so he was propped up against them, handling their daughter dexterously in one arm, and then handed her gently over.

She was so _light._ Inside his body she’d felt so heavy, but in his arms she seemed small and fragile. Her eyes were open, a dusting of dark hair just visible on the top of her head. He let out a soft exhale, feeling again that fumbling brush against his thoughts, just for an instant.

“How long?” Loki asked, touching her cheek lightly with one finger, feeling as though his heart was going to split open. His hands were pale again, shape once more his own – no, Loki thought. This might be his, but the other was his too.

“Three days.” Steve’s voice was still quiet, but it had sobered. “We thought…Bruce pieced you together. It took almost a day for your magic to start healing you.” He paused, and then added, “I think she knew you needed your rest. She never cried when I was here – but she’s certainly demanding otherwise.”

Loki smiled a little. “Mm. You don’t need to tell me.” He hesitated, and then looked up at Steve. “Is she…healthy?”

Steve’s smile was warm and broad. “She’s perfect,” he said, sounding so _proud_ that it made the ache in Loki’s chest intensify. “Clean bill of health.” His smile faded just a little. “It was you who scared us.” Loki looked away, feeling self-conscious.

“I am fine,” he said dismissively. Steve made a faint noise.

“Loki,” he said, “You made Thor cut you open. With a _knife._ You almost bled out right there on the floor.”

Loki let his head fall back again, still staring at his daughter. _Their_ daughter. Small and pink and – perfect. “I was not going to let her die.”

Steve sighed again, but to Loki’s relief seemed to let it go, at least for now. Loki did not doubt he would be hearing further about this later. “Have you named her?” He asked, trying to sound disinterested.

“What – no! Of course not. Not without you.” Loki nodded, faintly, and Steve cleared his throat. “We never really talked about…”

“Sarah,” Loki interrupted. “I would like to name her Sarah. For your mother.” She was going to vanish if he looked away. Or someone was going to take her. She made a small sound, not quite a cry, and Loki’s chest hurt. He didn’t want to close his eyes, but they were beginning to sting.

“You have thought about it,” Steve said, sounding surprised. Loki felt his lips curve toward a smile.

“When I was alone.” Loki tensed when he realized that he’d referenced his flight, but though a flash of something crossed Steve’s face it was gone quickly.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “We can wait, think about it, discuss options…”

“I am certain,” Loki interrupted. “Sarah Rogers.” Steve frowned.

“She should have a name from you as well.”

Loki stroked her cheek gently, with one finger. “Should she?” He asked. “Not my surname. I have none to offer. I would not wish to saddle her with the burden of being called Lokisdottir.”

“What about Frigga?” Steve asked. “Sarah Frigga Rogers. For your mother and mine.”

He could have denied it again. _She is not my mother,_ but there was no point. _Frigga._ It was not a bad namesake to give a daughter. “She would like it,” he said, and then nodded, slowly. “Very well. That is a fine name.” Loki couldn’t look away. She was…perfect. It was hard to believe, looking at her, that he could have helped to make such a beautiful thing. His arms were tiring fast, but he did not want to let go. He could feel his eyelids growing heavy, however, and if he didn’t hold her carefully…

“Steve,” he said, “you should take her.”

“Take – what? Are you all right?” Steve’s small, fragile smile vanished and he leaned forward, hovering worriedly. “Should I call Bruce?”

“No,” Loki said, perhaps a little too vehemently. “I am simply tired and do not wish to cause Sarah any inadvertent harm.”

“Oh,” Steve said, flushing a little. “Of course. Right.” He took her carefully back, and if Loki’s arms felt empty the feeling receded looking at Steve, cradling her head, his expression soft and full of care. “Loki,” he started, and Loki tried to summon the energy to focus.

“Yes?”

Steve looked at him for a moment, then shook his head. “Never mind,” he said, still so very gentle. “It can wait. Rest. We’ll be here when you wake up again.”

Loki had never heard anything quite so reassuring in his life. He closed his eyes and let himself sink back into sleep.

* * *

It seemed to take a long time for his body to heal. He had taxed his magic to the limit, Loki supposed, between forcing it to take him here and pouring it into Sarah to keep her alive before her birth. It was only luck that he had retained enough to heal himself after the impromptu surgery Thor had performed. Luck that he had not expected.

He moved in and out of consciousness for the first few days, sleeping more than he was awake, though every time he was awake Steve was there, and Sarah with him. After the first time he remembered to ask about the important things, and learned that she took to formula as well as any human child, though there had been some unease about trying it.

The first time Loki had the chance, he sliced open his thumb and gave her just a few drops of blood mingled with a tiny amount of magic, weaving a spell into her skin that would alert him sympathetically should she be hurt or sick. He waited to do so until Steve was distracted, though, some part of him twinging at the small secrecy, but only slightly. Banner was in and out, checking the healing wound across Loki’s stomach – still red and angry but fading quickly. Thor…

Thor cried, the first time Loki was awake to greet him, but even overcome with emotion his embrace was gentle. Steve was with Sarah and Banner, a medical examination which Loki misliked not supervising but chose to trust Steve to watch over their daughter.

“Brother,” Thor said, sounding almost breathless, “I was afraid you had – I feared that you-” He did not say, but Loki could hear it nonetheless and felt a surprisingly strong pang of shame.

“Do not distress yourself, Thor,” he said, and if his voice sounded tight he didn’t struggle against the embrace. Thor had wielded the knife, he remembered; ensured that Sarah would live. That was a debt he could not repay. “I am hale.”

Thor gave him a reproachful look. “If you had simply stayed,” he chided, “things need not have come to such dire straits. You very nearly were not. I watched you almost bleed to death.”

“Thor-” Loki meant to accuse him of becoming maudlin, but the words died on his tongue, looking at Thor’s face. He looked exhausted. “Your niece lives,” he said, “and so do I. I assume you have met her.”

“Yes,” Thor said, and his whole face lit up. “She is beautiful, Loki. And so small, when I held her-” He broke off, giving Loki a sudden, worried look, and for a moment Loki felt a pang of envy that Thor had been able to hold his daughter before him. “Only for a moment,” Thor hastened to add. “Steve needed to rest so I sat here with her and you, to keep watch…”

Loki could picture it, his daughter in Thor’s large hands, made for wielding Mjolnir to crush his foes and yet capable of such…gentleness. Thor would love her, he thought, his niece, with the pure-hearted ferocity that belonged only to Thor. Between her father and her uncle, Sarah would never lack for a defender.

“Loki,” Thor said, his voice hesitant. “You are crying.” He realized, absently, that he was. He covered his eyes. “Have I said something wrong?”

Loki laughed wetly. “No, you oaf,” he said. “No, you have not.”

* * *

Eventually, he left the infirmary for his own rooms. He carried Sarah there in the elevator. She was swaddled in cloth patterned with dragons, Loki noticed, and when he remarked on it Steve flushed. “Pepper,” he murmured, “did some shopping.”

Pepper, Loki thought, and then remembered – Pepper Potts, Stark’s…it was difficult to pinpoint exactly what. He did not know the woman well, and certainly would not have expected her to feel well disposed toward anything having to do with him – but perhaps it had more to do with Steve than anything else.

“We’ll need an apartment with more rooms,” Steve said, when they stepped inside. “She’ll want a room of her own – and I’m guessing we will too…maybe it’s time to think about moving.”

The idea jolted Loki, but not so much. He had come to think of this suite as a kind of home, but ultimately it was not his, not really. He imagined having a place that was, that was _theirs._ A room for he and Steve to share and another for Sarah. Something that belonged to them, where they need not be in fear of an attack. “Yes,” he said slowly. “Perhaps.”

Sarah squirmed in his arms, and he felt again that fumbling brush of magic, reaching out for him. He let his own magic pulse as if in recognition and she settled. Loki looked down at her, wondering how it felt to be so suddenly ripped from warmth and safety into the great wide world.

Steve’s hand rested on his shoulder and he leaned in and kissed Loki’s temple. “We can talk about it,” he said, expression warm and earnest. “I think we should.”

Loki melted into him just as Sarah started to cry. “Whoops,” Steve said, but smiling. “Time for lunch, I guess.”

* * *

Loki woke in the middle of the night from a dream he did not remember, heart pounding. Steve was breathing deep and evenly on the bed beside him, and Sarah was not crying yet, though it had only been a few hours since she was last awake and he did not doubt she would be stirring again soon.

He rolled out of bed and paced over to her bassinet, looking down at his daughter. She looked small and fragile to his eye, her skin pale, nearly translucent, especially in contrast to the surprisingly abundant dark hair on her head.

Loki swallowed hard and glanced over his shoulder, but Steve still seemed to be fast asleep. He reached out to lay his smallest finger against Sarah’s hand and shifted back into his Jotun body. The scar across his belly twinged anew, and his surroundings sharpened into clearer focus, the air of the room a little too warm.

She stirred in her sleep, but didn’t squall at the touch of his finger. For a moment, he held his breath, and then her skin changed, the blue washing over it, changing her. Loki’s body tensed and air snagged in his throat as it reached her face, expecting his stomach to turn and revolt, expecting hatred to surge up like bile.

Sarah did not even stir. Loki reached out and touched the small markings on her cheek; similar to his own, he realized with a jolt. His lungs felt tight and suddenly, inexplicably, he wanted to cry.

“Are you all right?” Steve asked, and Loki jumped, jerking his hand guiltily away. He hadn’t heard him awaken.

“I…” Loki’s voice sounded strange. “Yes. Did you know…?”

“She changes periodically,” Steve said softly. “Not when I’m holding her – at least not yet – or when Thor is. But when she sleeps. Do you…are you all right?” He repeated. Loki bit down on his lip, hard. He let out an explosive breath.

“I didn’t want her to have to be like me,” he said. “To have to…she was so beautiful.”

“She still is,” Steve said, sliding his arms around Loki’s waist and holding him close, pressing his warm lips to the back of his neck. “Beautiful and wonderful. Like you.”

Loki looked down at her, sleeping. Untroubled by the change in her skin.

She was, Loki thought. Beautiful and wonderful. And his. Sarah Frigga Stevesdottir (Lokisdottir). _Your sins aren’t hers. She can do better. Be better._

_You can give that to her._

“I am sorry I ran,” he said, softly and without turning.

“I forgive you,” Steve said, without any hesitation. “I was angry for a little while, but mostly…just scared.”

 _So was I,_ Loki thought, but it was hard to remember what he’d been so afraid of. This little creature, helpless and vulnerable and so painfully trusting?

Sarah shifted, making a face, her eyes opening, and Loki picked her up and settled her in his arms almost without thinking. Steve's arms tightened around him. Loki’s heart ached again with that feeling of being too full, like it might crack in two and spill out. “Mine,” he said softly. “You’re both mine.”

Steve’s breath was warm on the back of his neck. “Yes,” he said. “That’s right.”


End file.
